CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. "It's not very likely that a babby of nine months old will save my life, if I'm to be his friend, as you seem to say, Mrs. “Well——” She stopped short. "It seems like six long months to me. ” His eyes were squeezed shut. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it.
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