" "Only as a brother?" persisted Kneebone. If there was a Yankee bar-keep in HongKong, James Boyle would soon locate him. Built and paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay the customary fees. ‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me. She would never again be lonely. ‘Very useful, of course. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy.
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