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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. ” “Shall we go now?” “I think I would like to listen to music. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. You certainly have not shown much desire for my society, have you?” “You have been wrapped up in your politics,” she murmured. ‘I do not wish to hear any more reasons so foolish, so do not trouble to think of them. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked.
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