" "May I trust you?" cried Thames, eagerly. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. 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. . The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. You DO understand?” “Who cares for most people?” she said, not looking at him. She was given a glimpse of his soul. “But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed. “To the best of my belief, I have never seen the man in my life. If only one might open the shutters and let in the light.
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