There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. " "Dog!" exclaimed Quilt, turning fiercely upon him, "do you threaten?" But the watchman eluded his grasp, and, mingling with the crowd, disappeared. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. "Hear! hear!" vociferated Quilt. " "Never mind," said the old sailor, taking up a piece of blazing coal with the tongs, and applying it to his pipe; "let 'em try. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture. “All right so far,” she said to herself. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved. At least I can’t talk to them. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle.
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