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. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. “Look round the table,” she said. It was the grand nursery of vice.
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