He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. 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. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand.
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