He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. He was tender with her as he had not been in years. " "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. . As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. It is no good going into that. 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. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely.
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