Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. She foraged about in her mind for some satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling drone the Chinese called a language. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. “I shall never be able to thank you.
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