Summary

Ralph Stock South of the Line — The Lonely Lady (1922)

Felisi sighed.
And curiously enough Mrs. Strode chanced to sigh at much the same moment as she leant over the yacht's rail watching an outrigger canoe and its diminutive bronze occupant rising and falling on the gentle swell. What it must be to have nothing, and therefore happiness! To live in an earthly paradise and a sulu. To know nothing of the fetish of civilization. To be something more than an automaton to the man you love, even though he be your husband....
Source: Wikisource

Ralph Stock South of the Line — The Lonely Lady (1922)

The following morning, soon after a blood-red sun had climbed out of the sea, a canoe shot from the Ajax's lee and headed for the barrier reef.
To Mrs. Strode, paddling joyfully in the bows clad in a boy's bathing suit and a kimono, the world was young that morning and full of promise. Why was it ever necessary to do anything else than speed over blue water, with spindrift lashing the face, and the deep-toned roar of surf filling the universe and drowning all care like an opiate?
Source: Wikisource

Ralph Stock South of the Line — The Lonely Lady (1922)

A shadow appeared in the pool, deep down, then shot to the surface like a meteor, resolving itself into a sleek head that turned on Strode its staring, terrified eyes. It was the native girl—alone. The fact smote Strode with the force of a physical blow. For a moment he crouched there, stunned into impotence; then without word or look, plunged into the pool.
As a dive it was a poor performance, Felisi decided, and it soon became evident that Bunny could not swim, either.
Source: Wikisource

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