‘Parbleu,’ said Gerald. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. London, Paris, Rome! There were no hotel labels on the patient's trunk, but there were ship labels; and by these she was able to reconstruct the journey: from New York to Naples, thence to Alexandria; from Port Saïd to Colombo; from Colombo to Bombay; from Calcutta to Rangoon, thence down to Singapore; from Singapore to Hong-Kong. It was no use. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. Jonathan looked in that direction, and beheld the fugitives riding off in triumph. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him.
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