‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. The woman I wanted was another man's wife. Sometimes I am frightfully busy; and then there will be periods of dullness.
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