’ ‘Then Gérard may come back,’ Melusine cried involuntarily on a sudden rising hope. 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. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever.
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