"Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. "Is your person in danger?" "Not from my creditors," replied Wood, significantly. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Your adoptive father understands mankind better. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London.
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