"He's in St. I have the right also to throw you out. She could feel his breath on her skin, every hair on her arms and neck raised in response. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs.
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