Chapter XIII “HE WILL NOT FORGET!” The external changes in Brendon following on his alteration of fortune were sufficiently noticeable. 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. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. And what was singular she did not recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus.
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