But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No. He’s the handle of life for you. He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. ’ He stared at the point, glanced at the fallen sword imprisoned by her foot, and only just looked back at her weapon in time to see it thrust at him again.
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