” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. ’ Le Petit Journal said that the man was dead.
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