It was she! The Dawn Pearl! He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was heard, and ran down to the beach. 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. He wants you so, he is still a virgin. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. My Mom and Dad were always 184 at work.
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