All at once her heart began to patter queerly. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. Say, ever see any one resembling that photograph I dropped?" "So many come and go," said Ah Cum, shrugging. “What can you do?” she asked. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. Her eyes where glassy and shining. Then she went below.
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