Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. 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. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. ’ Captain Roding looked frowningly from one to the other. She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. Vaguely she heard the distinctive sound of male voices as she saw Gosse dive towards the fateful pew. Gwen and Alice were fantastically friendly, which seemed to annoy him, and Mrs.
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