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. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. His tone was kind and sympathetic. So the talk went on. ” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily. He lives near the Black Lion.
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