CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. ’ Disappointment flooded her. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. She did not understand the note of hostility to men that ran through it all, the bitter vindictiveness that lit Miss Miniver’s cheeks and eyes, the sense of some at last insupportable wrong slowly accumulated. He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. Having secured this,—for he was almost famished,—he said that he had lost a hammer and wished to purchase one. A white man takes his life in his hands.
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