” She said. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. She felt sticky and ashamed when he dropped her off a block away from the McCloskey house as she had requested. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. Sheppard, shuddering violently. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores.
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