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She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. She held out her hand frankly. Gerald grinned. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. "So you did," replied the prize-fighter. ’ ‘Excellent,’ Gerald had approved. ’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. ” The conversation hung for a moment. " "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames. ’ Melusine bit her lip.
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