” She shook her head deliberately, hopelessly. 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. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. " "No. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. I have never loved you.
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