Her situation was perplexing her very much, and the Widgett atmosphere was lax and sympathetic, and provocative of discussion. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Sheppard reached the debtor's garrison. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude. I don’t care what divides us. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence.
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