She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him! He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it. And, stretching out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the flood. If I were Mr.
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