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. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. \" She opened her eyes widely, as to better appear unworldly and unscathed. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you.
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