\"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting. She forbade him to escape to his workshop in the basement during those times, denying him his one and only hobby. Darting to a window looking in that direction, Thames threw it up, and discharged both his pistols, but without effect. 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.
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