She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. "Poor little creature!" he muttered, pressing it tenderly to his breast, as he grasped the rope and clambered up to the window: "if thou hast, indeed, lost both thy parents, as that terrible man said just now, thou art not wholly friendless and deserted, for I myself will be a father to thee! And in memory of this dreadful night, and the death from which I have, been the means of preserving thee, thou shalt bear the name of THAMES DARRELL. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued.
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