The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. “Lucy Albert, sir. ” She controlled a sob. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. The aunt laughed. "You shall see him to-morrow. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. "Are you returning to Hong-Kong to-morrow by the day boat?" For a moment Ruth was astonished at the sound of the spinster's voice.
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