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. Reluctantly she found him beguiling after he had eaten. \"Lucy?\" He called her as she turned. No girl with a face like that…. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils.
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