CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. She thought of all sorts of odd and desperate expedients, and with passionate petulance rejected them all. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. We will beg our bread and our shelter, and our passage on a boat. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris.
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