There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Charvill did nothing to ease their path and it was left to the man to open negotiations, which he did by producing a set of folded papers, slowly approaching the general, and holding them out at arms’ length. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him.
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