His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. When he returned to Hong-Kong, there was a reply to his cable: "Hang on. I'll put you aboard The Tigress to-morrow after sundown. "You are my prisoner, Jack. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. And empty.
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