Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. '" "Slave?" echoed Jack. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. ‘Rather thought I’d have to disarm you when you heard of it. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. ’ ‘Ah. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore.
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