There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right. It is putting all my dreams out of joint. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. He shook his head. 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.
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