He drew a little breath and stepped back. ’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle. The doctor sensed that his bolt had gone wrong, but he could not tell how or why. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. "Because she's a fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck.
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