She's my mealticket. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. I speak no harm of her. Á bientot—Melusine. Pure luck! But for that bottle of whisky, nobody in the Hong-Kong Hotel would have been able to identify the photograph; and at this hour James Boyle O'Higgins would have been on the way to Yokohama, and the trail lost for ever. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write.
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