Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Places, I found, were daily given away, And yet no friendly gazette mentioned Gay. To his astonishment and delight it yielded to the pressure, toppled over the ledge, and sank. "What is this?" she wanted to know. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright.
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