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Lassitude?” “I suppose so. I'm not particular what or where. 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. From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably.
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