I WAS talking to him before I saw his name on the card beside the row of microscopes. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. "I'm your dupe no longer. 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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