“It spreads like wildfire. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. "Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. Something in his tone pinched her heart. ’ ‘Assuredly there are many escaping from France at this time. 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. The area was sparsely populated. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone.
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