She sat with him in the courtyard after serving him 20 spiced wine. ‘Assuming she can prove her identity, does Remenham House belong to her?’ Mrs Sindlesham shifted her shoulders. She could think of nothing more to say. He kissed her cheek. Or mad, just as the captain had said so many times. 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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