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Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. His curiosity put itself into a question. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. 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.
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