How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally.
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