There he paused again, half turning his back and pretending to look for someone among the soldiers on the benches. 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. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. What she said is true. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again.
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