‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been imposed upon. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. So Ruth returned to her room and sorted the books and magazines the doctor had loaned her, inspected the titles and searched for pictures. "Not my king's," returned Wood. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. A lesson learned.
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