They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. "Tell me, what did they call you?" "Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the natives called me the Dawn Pearl. A young man turned to pay the cabman. He died in the war. My sister made me over, you know. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. I’d rather not go,” she added.
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