It was the beginning of June. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. 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 are unwritten laws governing human conduct. At the opening of the van doors and the emergence into the fresh air Ann Veronica’s doubt and depression gave place to the wildest exhilaration.
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