It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. ” “I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. ” Sir John frowned.
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