” “THE BUCKNALL MANSIONS MYSTERY. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. ‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. Enough's as good as a feast of the dainties you provide.
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