“Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. There was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there were grounds for it. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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