"One motive alone shall induce me to go on with you," said Jack. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. He made his headquarters at the Victoria on the Sha-mien, and generally met the Hong-Kong packet in the morning. God, I hate these stupid ear infections! Have you ever had one?” Michelle asked.
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