’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. She waited expectantly. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him.
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