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. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. “I hope,” Annabel answered lazily, “that you have succeeded. The skipper, Van Galgebrok, affirmed to me,—nay, gave me the additional testimony of two of his crew,—that he was thrown overboard. If I am to have no other opportunity I will speak before them. I’d do anything, Vee.
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