‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me. He'll mend, I hope. Pure luck! But for that bottle of whisky, nobody in the Hong-Kong Hotel would have been able to identify the photograph; and at this hour James Boyle O'Higgins would have been on the way to Yokohama, and the trail lost for ever. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. Besides, you cannot visit people armed with a pistol in London, you know.
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