" "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. ‘When one is penniless, one does not expect a life of ease.
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