Explore "The Jade God" by Alan Sullivan on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE WHOLE earth, bathed in bright sun and clear air, looked younger when Derrick walked into Bamberley next morning. It seemed but an hour since he had piloted Jean back through the fog, and when they parted she had clung to him for a wonderful moment that needed no words. His mind was still in a whirl, and with difficulty he pitched it forward to Bamberley jail.
Martin had been brought there in the gray of dawn, and with him the body of his wife, which rested where so lately the stiff figure of the peddler lay till subjugated consciousness mysteriously returned. There had been no chance to talk with Blunt, nor did Martin want to talk. He had sat for hours, quite motionless, turning the thing over and over in his slow brain, and it seemed that from the truth itself there was least to be feared. It was strange for him even to contemplate truth now. He was innocent of murder, but he was a perjurer nevertheless. He would have to risk that. Burke did not speak to him, and the moments dragged inflexibly on. But there was a new look in his swarthy face when Derrick entered the cell in company with the sergeant. He got up and nodded awkwardly.