Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. . Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch.
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