While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again. Surely she could ignore him. Let's have a look at the kinchen that ought to have been throttled," added he, snatching the child from Wood. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice. He seemed to be. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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