One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through fire. If ever she felt fatigue in these long tramps which had already taken her half over London, she never admitted it. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. You have taken even my knife. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing.
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