He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. Annabel, I cannot believe it. 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. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. Her lips parted, but no words came. ” The idea struck him as novel. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. They walked in silence. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. He was there concealed, waiting her return. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St. Wood.
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