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He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. It was my destiny to have her. He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him! He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it. The Becks as a 187 family didn’t talk or ruminate over Mike’s or Lucy’s past much. On that basis alone, he had no right to give or accept love. CHAPTER XIX.
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