Chapter XIII “HE WILL NOT FORGET!” The external changes in Brendon following on his alteration of fortune were sufficiently noticeable. His curiosity put itself into a question. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. 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. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their business, and in return we ask them to—dinner.
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