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. She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment. If he dies she is safe. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four.
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