Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. This is a joke of yours. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. It was free of leering men, unthinkable punishments, and human evil. You don't want people to snub you later. ‘So now you will please to go away and leave me to my business.
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