At Anna’s words she seemed suddenly to stiffen. “I have not quarrelled with her. 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. All sorts of considerations come in. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you. People think it is, but they are wrong.
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