” Her aunt answered in a low voice: “I was engaged to him, dear, for seven years, and then he died. " The clock tinkled ten. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off. Just this? Parbleu, did he think this was enough? She did not wish to marry him—at least, not just because he was an Englishman. 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. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball.
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