It seemed to emanate from the back of the house. . His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. " He summoned another "boy" and rumbled some Cantonese. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. But they would not be denied.
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