Thames Darrell, I've said, is at Mr. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. . “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. ” “You forget,” she said, looking up at him with a faint smile, “that under the cloak of her name I am earning more money a week than I could ever have earned in a year by my own labours. 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. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers.
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