The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. . Mr. Not since she had discovered it had Ruth touched or opened the mission Bible; but to-night (the same upon which the wonderful manuscripts started on their long and circuitous voyage to America) she was inexplicably drawn to it. Its smooth surface soothed her nerves. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story.
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