" Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. . The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. So far the thing was acceptable enough. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand.
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