Just an idea of mine. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance.
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