He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. Remember what the conjuror said. Even now she was dazed. Let her see what she could make here. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away. “Ask me nothing. He was always forgetting that his tummy was fifty-four years old. 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. She rapped again, louder.
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