" "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. That ring manifestly occupied her thoughts a great deal. But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. Still, it was true about men. ” He was bereft of words for a moment, and in that moment she escaped, having passed him on deftly to one of the later arrivals.
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