’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. 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. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls.
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