Give me the books. "A drunken idea," said Ah Cum, taking his hands out of his sleeves. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. 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. He thrust out a rhetorical hand.
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