The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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