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. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. "Your answer!" cried Sheppard. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. ” He replied lightly and stepped towards her.
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