"At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. ‘That would have grieved Jarvis. You know you do, Annabel. . She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly. "When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. CHAPTER VI. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels.
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