And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. “If I do,” he said. “You do not know what you say. ‘And if he is dead I know not. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. "To those who, like me, have never been able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach it the better.
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