And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. I done just what you asked. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. He stepped back further. However, I've not told you all; for old Van did say something about the child saving his new-found friend's life at the time of meeting; but how that's to happen, I'm sure I can't guess. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. . ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. Or run me through. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense.
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