He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. 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.
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