It was so hopeless to put it to them. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. ’ Gerald did not speak, but there was a look in his face that made Melusine glad she had at last had the courage to confide in him. She is like some character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty years and just been excavated. It would make my wife very happy. Ask your own conscience. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position.
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