There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Long before religion and Society heard of Doubt, girls were all for midnight coaches and Gretna Green. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. “I can’t endure it,” she said. I want to enrich it with hangings and gladden it with verses. Mother and Son.
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