"Before you go, bring me the bottle of pineapple rum I opened yesterday. Over these boards the two arms of a guide-post serve to direct the wayfarer—on the right hand to the neighbouring villages of Neasdon and Kingsbury, and on the left to the Edgeware Road and the healthy heights of Hampstead. 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. Have I your final answer?" "You have, Sir Rowland," she answered, in a feeble tone, but firmly. "But there's nothing more to see in Canton. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen.
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