The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul. ’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly. “And you brought her a man, I presume.
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