Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. "Tell me, what did they call you?" "Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the natives called me the Dawn Pearl. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck.
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