There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. "That gown is getting shabby. Earles is going out at twelve sharp—important engagement. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. He's a cutie. Eventually her movements carried her to the little stand at the side of the bed. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively. “Oh, damn!” he said. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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