"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. It must be somewhere hereabouts. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. He gave glimpses of possibilities. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. \"Really.
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