I did not know you spoke Kanaka," he broke off. She stared. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. "I'd lay down my life for yours. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. "He has robbed him. If it is that I am in the least French, and that you do not like it—’ ‘I don’t like it,’ snapped the old man. He uttered a short laugh. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness.
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