"Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. The pearls were really yours?" "They were left to me by my mother. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. ” “Mr. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples.
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