By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. 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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