He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. Hill again—alive. No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien after sunset without a license. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose.
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