Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. . ’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. And the woollen-draper departed.
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