“Very likely,” he answered. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. His face was very serious. “I want to ask you a question,” he said. I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me--you seem kind of shy--but I figured maybe I could still talk you into joining our study group, it goes all year. He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if awaiting to be addressed. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. "Is that all? Then learn from me that your hopes are visionary as their foundation.
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