CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. You don't realize what you have done. Be so good as to come this way. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. . "Come along, my sly shaver. However, it don't signify. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe.
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