She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. The next door neighbor's dog, chained outside, let out a single bark, but was silent as soon as she turned in that direction, instinctively afraid. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. ” Lucy commented. Her mother…. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing. My letters are returned unopened, her maid will not even allow me across the doorstep.
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