The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her! The pearl without price—his and not his! He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down the veranda steps. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Hill again—alive. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. "Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader.
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