"Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. "I'm quite at your disposal. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically.
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