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. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger.
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