She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. CHAPTER XIV. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. ’ The familiar hollow opened up inside Melusine’s chest, and she could not prevent the husky note that entered her voice. 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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