He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. The island castle at Port Herculis had been part of the trade off, all to be kept as quiet as the circumstances of her second marriage and her “suicide”. . It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out.
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