\"Shoes!!\" Michelle's mother cried. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees.
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