There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. You will go to London?” “It is necessary,” she answered. " The spinsters nodded approvingly. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald.
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