“A man can smoke, a man can swear; A man scores always, everywhere. 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. "Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God. ‘You are an avid reader, I take it. " "But that style isn't Oriental. "Much that I would willingly forget. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly.
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