She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “Will you help me?” he asked. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. This amazing world she had set forth to discover! Yesterday at this time she had had no thought in her head about Canton. Blueskin therefore had nothing to stop him. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction.
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