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But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. "Where is he?" he cried. "He acts queerly, too. it’s open. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. ’ Melusine bit her lip on a sharp retort. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. When he arrived at Hoxton, he found the walls covered with placards offering a reward for his apprehension, and he everywhere appeared to be the general subject of conversation.
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