She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. ‘She hasn’t said so, but I presume Valade had got hold of all the useful papers,’ Gerald went on. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. His father and mother are gone now. In my search after strange characters, Mr. I am sure that he can be got rid of. No! That was impossible. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. 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. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side.
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