That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. . She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. 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. ” “That’s if we succeed. She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. That's a queer yarn. " "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard.
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