She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. 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. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced. ‘Ah.
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