She was very satisfied about this. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. Someone was coming out of the house. The whole of that relationship persisted in remaining obscure.
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