My will never faltered. It slid off flimsily. "Tell me, what did they call you?" "Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the natives called me the Dawn Pearl. "Very well. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. You will survive, mark my words. "I'm sorry," she said.
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