There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. ’ Then she ran swiftly out of the library, calling out as her cavalier was almost at the front door. There was something markedly and deliberately liberal-minded in his manner in all their encounters.
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