The woollen-draper looked at his watch. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. “Don’t you know?” “Oh! I know—” “Well—” Her face was an unaccustomed pink. One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. " "Take time to consider of it," replied Wood sulkily, "there's no hurry. “It is, if anything, a little above the average,” Brendon admitted. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. I felt his heart. She owed the nun a great deal, including her command of English, for no one else thought to ensure she could speak her mother tongue.
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