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"Hurrah!" cried Scarlett. Clapping Chao Phya under his arm, and leaving both gula and mangoes untasted, he hurried down to his carriage. Just as he had booked for the "Muang-Fang," and was leaving the office, he ran against a round little man, tight-buttoned in cheerful flannels.

"You here, too!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. His red necktie lent a needless touch of heat to the torrid compound. He waggled a roguish finger. "I spy, I spy! Same steamer, eh? You sad young dog! And the cat—now I call that devotion, if you like!"

Owen reddened.