"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. ’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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