She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. ‘We?’ Gerald smiled. 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. You were delicious in concert, by the way.
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