Wood. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. But all these hours, trying to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back was turned, this! He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation—his own interest in Ruth. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours.
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