There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. For two years he thought himself secure; and, secretly engaged in the Jacobite schemes of the time, in which, also, Sir Cecil was deeply involved, he began to relax in his watchfulness over Aliva. Courtlaw sat with folded arms. The same teardrop bust, the same long waist, the same thick legs.
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