It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park. " "What do you mean?" asked the female, in astonishment. So far she had the utmost difficulty in getting on to that vitally important matter. " "De jonker. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. 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. “Close your eyes.
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