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But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. Die game. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club.
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