Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. "I do," replied Sheppard. "In spots you are a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad.
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