Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. CHAPTER XVI. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. I would not have him know—now—for the world. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely.
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