There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘He destroyed the papers?’ ‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. She crushed the letter in her hand. ” His shoulders relaxed. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. He smiled. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. That’s how it takes me.
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