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. “I’ve never been prone to them. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. Would you like me to take one for you?\" \"Nah. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. But he can't have his eyes always about him, or he'd have been with us this morning at the Mint, eh, Mr. I don’t think of you as a kid. He pulled down a chair to her left. I made her my unwilling confederate. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address.
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