Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. Framed in one of the square ports of the packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical mask. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. I can’t. Be on your guard. I'll tell you something. The Return 231 II. If you choose, you can see him put on board the Zeeslang yourself, Sir Rowland. “I can assure you that it was quite unnecessary.
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