Then the lady smiled and her radiance, even in the darkness, warmed Gerald unexpectedly. Her soft brown eyes, inherited from Larry, warmed an already pretty 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. He just walked in a few minutes ago. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. I have something that weighs heavily upon my mind. The sun never shone upon a lovelier couple than now approached the altar. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened.
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