She found presently she was out of the dock and confronted with the alternative of being bound over in one surety for the sum of forty pounds— whatever that might mean or a month’s imprisonment. 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. Give me but leave to try. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. She's too pretty and unusual. " "Mother!" cried Jack, in a broken voice.
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