" "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. \"Thank you. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. 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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