He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. "We'll see that," replied Jonathan. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. The Chapel.
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