" Many wrinkles appeared at the corners of Ah Cum's slant eyes—as if the sun hurt—but the rest of his face remained as passive as a graven Buddha's. He’ll survive. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. "I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation.
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