There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. " On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation. “I do mean that,” she declared. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party. They rose as she approached. To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open.
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