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CHAPTER XXXII. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. Wait a moment. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. 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. ’ ‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly. It shall be your wedding ring.
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