One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. Too many. After all—’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to see him,’ Melusine protested. "That's not an easy question to answer," rejoined Blueskin. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. It is the bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle.
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