For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm. ” She looked into her glass. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. "Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. ’ ‘I will not. I have yet another.
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