Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. Later, she would sew it on. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other.
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