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"Is it for me?" The pilot nodded. "Sure t'ing. De purtiest one ever I see. But look!" He called her attention to a beaver cap, a pair of beaded moose-hide mittens, and a pair of small fur boots that went with the larger garments altogether a complete outfit for winter travel. "I buy him from dose hinjun hunter. Put him on, queeck."
"CARIBOU!" Rouletta's eyes were bright with curiosity and an emotion far more material. "Where in the world ?" "Some hinjun hunter mak' beeg kill. I got more s'prise as dat, too. By golly! Dis goin' be regular Chris'mas for you." Rouletta stirred. There was stubborn defiance in her tone when she said: "I'm going to get up and I'm going outdoors clothes or no clothes.
"Is it true that no man has ever reached them?" "Yes. The hinjun say that's w'ere hall the storm come from, biccause w'en the win' blow troo the Ass's Ear, look out! Somebody goin' ketch 'ell." Dogs' feet wear quickly after freezing, for crusted snow cuts like a knife. Spots of blood showed in their tracks, growing more plentiful till every print was a crimson stain.
"Hif that's a spessermin of your Hinjun acquaintances, I don't think much of Hinjur or Hinjun serciety. But what can you expect of a nation as insults the gentleman who waits behind his employer's chair at table by callin' him a kitten-muncher?" Henry Dunbar arrived in London a couple of hours after Mr. Vernon left the Abbey. He went straight to the Clarendon Hotel.
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