] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. “You must send for the police at once, you know. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape. Why, there was drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! "You've been lonely, too. And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son. He came to the door and as he opened it a crack, she pushed herself inside urgently. “Close your eyes. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. We LIKED each other well enough.
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