To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a simple but modern dress. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. We will find some way out of it. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead.
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