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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. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that character, he suffered or prospered equally. gutenberg. I called myself Anna. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. I've seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like him.
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