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. No matter what the fire and force of his passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes out. ” “Perhaps not in a general way,” he answered calmly. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. ” “Out with it, then,” he cried, almost roughly. "Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack. He gave her silence in return.
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