Do you hear me, Sir? Won't you stir!" "Not a step," replied Langley, gruffly. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. Hilary could not have suggested such a thing. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen pairs of silk stockings. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again.
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