So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. Mr. ' That's your signal.
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