She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. "Let's try, at all events," returned the Amazon. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. . How little he knew about Ruth—the background from which she had sprung! He knew that her father was a missioner, that her mother was dead, that she had been born on this island, and that, at the time of his collapse, she had been on the way to an aunt in the States. It was a dead calm. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. Don’t try to shield anybody or hide anything. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject.
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