All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. 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. " He sent the doctor a sly glance.
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