“Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. It had gone with the rest. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. ” Then he went on to say: “Well, you’ve had your little adventure, and I hope now you’ve had enough of it. No one spoke to her. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it.
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