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. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. You should go home today and get some rest. Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. She had finally managed to start breaking him down. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate.
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