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I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. “One can’t tell. Hurry. 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. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways.
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