Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. Her tone was hoarse with passion. I was in the front row, and I fancied she smiled at me. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically.
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