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CHAPTER FIVE
ABOARD THE "MUANG-FANG"
Scarlett, the naked sword in his hand, maintained an uncompromising stare. Hostile silence filled the little cabin.
"Well?" drawled the guide, at last. He combed his beard with steady fingers. "Well, what of it?"
"I think," said Owen coldly, "any further talk should come from you."
"Very good. It will," replied Borkman, with a robust air of generosity. "No reason why it should, you know. I'm not accountable to you. Only don't look so damned righteous and judgmatical." He closed the door, and cramped his great bulk down on the lounge below the porthole. "Come, come," he laughed, "look natural, my boy. Unbend, un-
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