Mr. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. So long as she stood beside him, the Hand would not prevail. No, this was not reasonable. I bring you tidings of an old friend. But he might have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the further arch; whereas, Wood, as we have seen, took his course upon the right. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. .
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