As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. ‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her! The pearl without price—his and not his! He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down the veranda steps. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones.
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