A new thought checked her steps and she froze. Capes bore a face of infinite perplexity. 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. She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair.
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