I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might have the dresses and entertainments she desired. I—listen. To his relief, she nodded. "If I had, you'd not have seen me here," replied Jack, sullenly. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII.
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