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Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ” Sir John was speechless. " "Keep in your own room, at all events," rejoined Kneebone. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. I came in by the vestry, and we will go out that way again.

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