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One swift glance about the room, and a sensation of grim foreboding swept through him. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. When she judged that she must be nearly back at the library, she began to feel somewhat dispirited. "Tell me, what did they call you?" "Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the natives called me the Dawn Pearl. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. \" Lucy fought to resist the compulsion to 45 fold her arms over her chest. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. I shall never come back. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled.
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