She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. When she told him that the natives called her The Dawn Pearl, his delight was unbounded. "Speak English?" boomed the voice. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. "I will," answered the prisoner.
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