‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. It would be swindling.
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