At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. 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. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. The twins were a hard delivery, a C-Section. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. "No," answered Jack, approaching her, "though, if I had done so, he would have merited his fate. A shiver slid down inside her.
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