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"Mon Dieu it ees you, Mee-sair Philip," cried Pierrot again, his face lighting up with pleasure. "You come late. You are hongree?" "I've had supper," replied Philip. "I've just come from Lac Bain. But what's up, old man ?" He pointed to Pierrot's hand, and looked questionably about the cabin again. "Eh Iowla my wife she is at Churchill, over on the bay," groaned Jacques. "And so are the children.
What! You did not hear at Lac Bain? Iowla is taken seek ver' seek with a strange thing which ugh! has to be fixed with a knife, Mee-sair Philip. An' so I take her to the doctor over at Churchill, an' he fix her an' she is growing well now, an' will soon come home. She keep the children with her. She say they mak' her think of Jacques, on his trap-line.
It was near midnight when he came to Pierrot's cabin, but a light was still burning in the half-breed's log home. Philip kicked off his snow shoes and knocked at the door. In a moment Pierrot opened it, stepped back, and stared at the white figure that came in out of the storm. "Mon Dieu it ees you Mee-sair Philip!" Philip held out his hand to Jacques, and shot a quick glance about him.
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