Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. Everything. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. And now, only twenty-four hours behind him … that is, if he wasn't paddling by on the return route to Hong-Kong or had dropped down to Macao.
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