Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. " The little urchin set off, and presently returned with the sexton. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal.
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