The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. The curtain rose out of the concluding bars of the overture and revealed Isolde on the prow of the barbaric ship. . ’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. “What if you get pregnant?” His worry came to a quick fruition. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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