Oh! violence cannot avail! It can
only make his loss irreparable."
Kerry, nostrils distended, eyes glaring madly, bent over him.
"Your scallywag of a son," he said hoarsely, "has gone one step
too far. His adventures have twice before ended in murder--and
you have covered him. This time you can't do it. I'm not to be
bought. We've stood for the Far East in London long enough.
Your cub hangs this time. Get me? There'll be no bargaining.
The woman's reputation won't stop me. My kid's danger won't stop
me. But if you try to use him as a lever I'll boot you to your
stinking yellow paradise and they'll check you in as pulp."
"You speak of three deaths," murmured Zani Chada.
Kerry clenched his teeth so tightly that his maxillary muscles
protruded to an abnormal degree. He thrust his clenched fists
into his coat pockets.
"We all follow our vocations in life," resumed the Eurasian, "to
the best of our abilities. But is professional kudos not too
dearly bought at the price of a loved one lost for ever? A far
better bargain would be, shall we say, ten thousand pounds, as
the price of a silk handkerchief------"
Kerry's fierce blue eyes closed for a fraction of a second. Yet,
in that fraction of a second, he had visualized some of the
things which ten thousand pounds--a sum he could never hope to
possess--would buy.
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