She shook her head. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. You refuse me your confidence. Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders by the valance of the bed. 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. One could go to him and tell him one loved him.
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