When she told him that the natives called her The Dawn Pearl, his delight was unbounded. He caressed her tenderly, with no trace of the Sebastian who had previously knocked her off her feet with a slap across the mouth. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening.
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