Part 5 The next morning she waited in the laboratory at the lunch-hour in the reasonable certainty that he would come to her. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. No other white people within twenty miles. ‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. He was evidently nervous, and very anxious to be impressive; his projecting eyes sought to dominate.
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