“They might do you good,” she remarked. What right had she to call herself “Alcide”? It was abominable, an imposture. I want to talk to Mr. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. Perhaps he had had money in the coat, back in Hong-Kong, and had been robbed without knowing it.
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