Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. ” He groaned. “Beasts!” But Miss Miniver took no notice of his admission. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine.
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