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Updated: May 16, 2025
She gave him her hand, and he took it within his own, enveloping its pale slenderness in his rope-roughened palm. He held it just long enough to make her raise her eyes and meet his; then he released her, and, avoiding the anti-climax of a further talk with the missioner, passed out of the hall to the dark and sparsely peopled street.
Hanmer, will you be that friend?" "You are choosing a rough sort of nurse-maid." "But will you?" She faced him, wonderful in the moonlight. His eyes dropped. His voice stammered, "I I will do my best, Miss Josselin." She held out a hand. He took it perforce in his rope-roughened paw, held it awkwardly for a moment, and released it as one lets a bird escape. Ruth smiled.
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