"You've but a sorry lodging, Mrs. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. There must be ways of getting rid of him. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes.
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