He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. ‘It’s my belief she is a nun. 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. She must not show anything. " As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers. Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone.
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