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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. \"I'll have to ask Cathy, you know my foster mother? I have not been asked on a date before. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. 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.
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