“Miserable bounder,” he murmured. 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. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. " "That's the way it goes. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him. " "You don't have to.
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