"My father!" she whispered. ‘Naturally I had to come,’ confirmed the lively blonde, her eyes twinkling up at Alderley. There stepped forth a tall brown man. . "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted. "Sir Cecil is no more. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. The job is easy. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true.
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