On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. The lad hesitated. For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. It was she! The Dawn Pearl! He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was heard, and ran down to the beach.
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