"We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. It must be somewhere hereabouts. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. Pure luck! But for that bottle of whisky, nobody in the Hong-Kong Hotel would have been able to identify the photograph; and at this hour James Boyle O'Higgins would have been on the way to Yokohama, and the trail lost for ever. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish.
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