The Dawn Pearl. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair. He sees men all defiled by coarse thoughts, coarse ways of living cruelties. I want to be myself.
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