It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. ’ ‘There is no need for this,’ he ventured mildly, and lifted his finger to show his own pistol was not cocked. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. " "Well, villain!" replied Thames, "I know not the motive of your visit.
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