’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. 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. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. If there is, it’s a mere wrapping—there’s better underneath.
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