He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. Again silence. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence. “You’re kidding, right?” “Not kidding at all. ” She set the letter down, and drew from her pocket another with a foreign post mark which had come the day before. All right! I’m off. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. 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. Now let us forget it. An unhappy little sigh escaped her.
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