" "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. He was mad. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. 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. I don’t want you to talk to me now. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. "She travelled alone; and she is the purest woman God ever permitted to inhabit the earth. ’ The smile vanished. Like a petulant child he snapped. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. " "You're a damn fool, too!" exploded the trader.
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