The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ‘I do not believe you. . " Sheppard said nothing, but a disdainful smile curled his lips. " "Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The Dawn Pearl!" McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote.
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