All at once her heart began to patter queerly. Stanley, “just a moment. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. And they never talked of anything at all, never discussed, never even encouraged gossip. 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. Naturally you shout yourself hoarse when she has finished, and feel jolly pleased with yourself. “You have the ideas. There were two sisters, you know.
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