It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. It’s all right. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. ‘Laisse-moi. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. She climbed back into the window an hour before sunrise.
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