The pearl is lovelier than the most brilliant of crystalline stones, themoralist declares, because it is made through the suffering of a livingcreature. About that I can say nothing because I feel none of thefascination of pearls. Their cloudy lustre moves me not at all. Nor canI decide for myself upon that agelong dispute whether The Pearl of Loveis the cruellest of stories or only a gracious fable of the immortalityof beauty.

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