Ah, no, I have it wrong. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. "I dare say she has called to inquire about Jack. She hated living like that. There are two ways to go in, you understand. But about dat jonker," he continued, lowering his voice; "have you anything to add consarnin' him? It's almosht a pity to put him onder de water. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat.
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