Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. Ah Coom. I'll keep it for your sake. It’s not you—not a bit. ” Lucy said. Their laughter, together with the agonized yowling of the dog, drew a circle of wondering natives; and at length McClintock himself came over to see what the racket was about. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this.
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