There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection.
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