" "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Michelle, I truly don’t. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. It is not, my dear Veronica, that I think there is any harm in you; there is not. "I never told anybody," she went on. "I cannot climb the boat. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' camp. " "Well, that's fine. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. He took the first step toward the stairs, and met the restraining hand of McClintock.
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