Gerald lost his head. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her. In this state, he contrived to get the poor black's hand into his mouth, and nearly bit off one of his fingers before the sufferer could be rescued. I can be a gentleman. "But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock.
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