" "Off!" she exclaimed, breaking from his embrace with a scream. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. ” She acted calm, but could not help being offended. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began.
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