You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. “Why not? It might amuse me. ” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action. 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. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it.
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