His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. “But I still think of my old foster brothers and sisters. Let me recommend a glass of wine. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. 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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