She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. She taught him how to sail a proa, how to hack open a milk-coconut, how to relish bamboo sprouts. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. It's two hundred pounds. ’ The girl held out her hands. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter.
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