She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble. He only laughed his defiance. He reached over and took her hand. 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. Sometimes I think she’s tired of us.
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