The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. ‘I will do so. ‘Wait a minute, though. ” Lucy answered, disturbed at how rehearsed the apology sounded. Arrived at the secret door, she grasped the lever that opened it and placed the lantern on the floor. "My friends, Mr. Jeremiah Jackson, and Mr. Hogarth," remarked Jack, dejectedly.
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