\"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. "The Dawn Pearl," he said. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. ” She roused herself from some dream at the word. " "I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay.
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