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. We leave England to-night. Everything in his favour—the luck of the gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. “And I’m not happy. You notice that I have recently spent ten francs on a box of the best Russian cigarettes, and that there are roses upon my table.
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