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“My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. Our ideal had fallen. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said. "The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. There was a second co-respondent. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively.
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