6 Chiu Ping le, Chiu Yam Street. “Bother it all!” she swore. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair. If you do not find your aunt, my people will take you under wing until you can stand on your own. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. She had a gold watch, a very good gold watch that had been her mother’s, a pearl necklace that was also pretty good, some unpretending rings, some silver bangles and a few other such inferior trinkets, three pounds thirteen shillings unspent of her dress and book allowance and a few good salable books.
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