’ ‘Did I so?’ Gerald said, amused. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. So long as matters remain as they are, and they found me, there would be no shame for Ruth. He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. My death, probably.
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