Ann Veronica had a number of fragmentary impressions of Alice strangely transfigured in bridal raiment. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. 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.
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