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. You know that. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness.
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