“I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. 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. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar.
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