" There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. "The Dawn Pearl," he said. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. " "Wear that to-night, then. There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow.
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