" "You'd better," replied Quilt. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad.
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