Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. All of which proves that the doctor also had his moments of distraction, with this difference: he was not distracted from his subject matter. . In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. . ’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. “Life—things—I don’t think her prospects now—Hopeful outlook. .
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