’ He became aware of his friend’s face before him. 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’m a big boy, you know. It is better to face the truth. . He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. I’m a desperate young woman.
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