‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. "Here's one of the thieves, Sir Rowland!" cried the attendant. Before his departure, he gave his assistant a glove. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. But your cracked skull is by no means a pleasing spectacle.
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