Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. But perhaps if people didn’t like clear, bright, healthy eyes—which is biologically understandable—they couldn’t like precious stones. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. ’ He called through the library door. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. And Mrs.
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