If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. I feel years younger, a man again. “Yes, I remember,” she said. 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. Capes came back into her mind. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer.
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