“Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. He lowered himself on to her. Life is so good. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. It was she! The Dawn Pearl! He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was heard, and ran down to the beach.
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