Upon my word—you are Miss Pellissier, aren’t you?” “I certainly am,” she admitted. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. She turned a resolute face southward. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works 1.
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