“Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. I don't know whose brainless head it may be, but it'll do for my collection. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. 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. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever.
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