2. ’ Joan nodded, her face still averted. 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. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. No lights were flashing, and a single squad car was not a cause for alert, as sometimes the Becks allowed squads to use their drive to watch for speeders and other reckless drivers. I’ve bored you or something. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good.
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