But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. At least I can’t talk to them. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. "I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. ” He ran around his car and opened the door for her as she desperately tried to view out of the corner of her eye the man sitting silently in the squad car. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No.
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