" "Rollo!" There were no locks or panelled doors in the bungalow; and Rollo was aware of it. ’ ‘Entertained, he says!’ ‘Intrigued, then,’ amended Gerald equably, although truth to tell he was enjoying the mystery enormously. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. She took up a book and threw it down again. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars.
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