She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. 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. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother.
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