One of the coolies held the paper lantern. For a time she promenaded the room. “So you’d best open your coffers. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. " "Do not doubt me," replied Thames, warmly pressing his hand. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. .
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