He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. 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. That old chap has a remarkable range in reading. It was of no use, she let him do it as she could not be strangled. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. And where was that devil? Had the soldiers found him? She could not think he had escaped, for she had only just made it into the passage as they entered the library. She could not bear the shame of it.
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