Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. “Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity.
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