Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. . " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. It creaked slightly. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. "You mustn't!" "Nothing can change that, Dawn Pearl. ’ ‘You would speak of the house?’ ‘Many’s the time little Miss Mary would say her papa meant for her to have it, she having no brothers and sisters at all—when we played together I mean, she and me and Joan Pottiswick.
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