‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. “Turn me. 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. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. The five men students were a mixed company.
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