9. Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. . But for him she might have been alive and happy. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. 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. There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him. .
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