CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. She had nothing to say for herself. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction.
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