"What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. When he was given the telegram he flew to the Praya, engaged the fast motorboat he had previously bespoken against the need, and started for the Macao Passage, with the vague hope of speaking The Tigress. Thanks. “You seem to have cultivated quite a jaunty appearance, and you certainly look years younger. ” TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Typesetting and editing of the original book from which this e-text has been transcribed was inconsistent.
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