I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. “You are a thousand times more beautiful,” he said, “than anything else could be. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. "Where are the boys?" "In the hall. E. Twenty-one, twenty-two. CHAPTER XXVII.
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