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The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. Pure luck! But for that bottle of whisky, nobody in the Hong-Kong Hotel would have been able to identify the photograph; and at this hour James Boyle O'Higgins would have been on the way to Yokohama, and the trail lost for ever. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness. “Very well,” she would say, “then I must go.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 20-09-2024 09:06:02
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