"Damnation!" cried Kneebone. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat.
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