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THE SIAMESE CAT
runner from the lottery, shouting the lucky number for the night. Dawn was near, then; Owen rose wearily, and crept under his mosquito netting, to sleep over the whole blind puzzle.
He woke to find himself still thinking of the courier.
"Borkman started all this cat-pidgin; he knew where to buy, had a letter to the pawnbroker—" What a long, empty day, before seeing Laura at dinner! "I'll spend it," he decided, "looking in on this devious gentleman's friends."
But even starting early after breakfast, he wasted most of the morning before he found the pawnbroker's shop; and then was rewarded only by the gory smile of the betel-chewer, and a furious exhibition of undesired cats.
"No go," he thought. "This chap doesn't
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