" "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. . Had romance to be banished from life?. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. What was the matter with the dress? She could not see.
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