“You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. ’ ‘But I have told you I have not another dagger, even a little one. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Martha had been more to her than that. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. "Yes. He looked at her with a certain curiosity.
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