As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. She roves the blue fields of the North, with the clean North Wind on her lips and her blonde head jewelled with frost— mocking valour and hardihood! Out of the West she comes, riding the great ships and the endless steel ways that encompass the earth, and smoke comes with her and the glare of furnace fires—commerce! From the East she brings strange words upon her tongue and strange raiment upon her shoulders and the perfume of myrrh—antiquity! But oh! when she springs from the South, her rosy feet trailing the lotus, ripe lequats wreathing her head, in one hand the bright torch of danger and in the other the golden apples of love, with her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of pearls! "With her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of pearls. The air was pungent and leaden. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please.
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