‘Never mind that now. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. This—all this swamps them. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone. 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. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards.
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