Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. 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. No matter. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper.
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