‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. “I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. It has instead found you. Oh, you cannot escape from it. I tried to have it out with him, but he wouldn’t have it out.
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