Wood became sensible that he was not alone. 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. Not Trodger. She was pensive and thoughtful. " "But what, in God's name, possessed you? You have already wrecked your own life and now you've wrecked hers. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger.
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