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CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Sepulchre's church, where, in compliance with an old custom, it halted. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated.
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