‘Certainly I can prove it. 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. She had set out to get a beautiful life, a free, untrammelled life, self-development, without counting the cost either for herself or others. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman.
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