McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and Spurlock into his coffee cup. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. They were both dressed in every respect alike. John said nothing. She turned there and beckoned. ” He was a little uneasy. 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. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. The other individual, who was a little in advance, was concealed from the stranger's view.
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