E below. ‘But he must have—’ ‘Nicholas Charvill never did anything he must do,’ Mrs Sindlesham said evenly. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him! He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it. It was a castoff of Shari’s from her brief obsession with sewing. I’m rather scornful. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts. He shuddered.
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