But I wrapped it in that nun’s gear you give me. It had ceased to beat. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady. Were you born here, madame?’ ‘Mais non. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. 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.
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