Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night. They had both been unsuccessful. For five days The Tigress chugged her way across the burnished South China, grumpily, as if she resented this meddling with her destiny. She crooked her finger. He changed his mind however, and simply motioned to her to proceed. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. . ” He sat for a moment, absorbing.
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