Wood laughed louder than ever. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. . He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct.
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