They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground. “My mind is full of confused stuff,” he said at length.
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