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. ’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. And so gentle as the poor creature is, when she's not in her wild fits—it would melt a heart of stone to see her. " "It's all so big and aloof. "What in the world is it?" he asked.
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