She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. Above all, beware of Sir Rowland Trenchard. 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 native! She must watch out. A married man!—the kind I've never been able to lure down there! But keep your temper in check. He whispered in her ear. " "Can you make me honest?" cried Jack.
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