" So she told him the adventure of the two beachcombers in the typhoon, and how they became regenerated by their magnificent courage. She had just managed to reach it, grabbing for the handle, when the enemy’s cracked command halted her. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. ’ A wary look came over her face, and Roding intervened. His arms released from his 68 sides, he lifted them around her in a light embrace. She met him by the dugout after the game. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe.
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