Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. But I give you this warning, and let it sink in. At last she was roused. Wood had retired to his own room, where he had just summoned Thames. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. “Annabel;” he moaned. His literary instincts were reviving. Nothing else weighs against it. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers.
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