When she told him that the natives called her The Dawn Pearl, his delight was unbounded. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls.
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