"Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. “Is that plain?” she asked. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. We'll be upon the ban-dogs before they can shake their trotters!" And the alarm was sounded more loudly than ever. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party.
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