" "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. He was nearly wincing. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York.
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