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He was staring at her, openly gaping. He lives near the Black Lion. “Not to-night,” she said. “My dear Anna,” he answered. In a moment his grasp grew weaker. Stay where you are, Mr. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. 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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