In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot. "He stands before you," rejoined her son. 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. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. She must be beautiful, but beauty is only the beginning.
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