The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. Annabel shook her head. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. I've destroyed my only chance. ” She smiled at him. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. ’ She shook her head.
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