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But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon. At last, she breathed. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. ‘And this is where you have been all the time?’ ‘I would have been back in a day, I promise you. CHAPTER XXVII. But I can't consent to the course you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due consideration.
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