"Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. Anyhow, she’s disappeared for some reason or other. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. Courtlaw stood up.
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