She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. “Yes,” she answered, looking away. We haven’t. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair. "Safe!" shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure landing. Actually, he had come all this distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. "This your regular business?" "For the present. Very dark, like yours, ma’am.
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