There was no rush. ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her. Wood now re-appeared with a very red face; and, followed by Winifred, took her seat at the table. Better to remain silent. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. 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.
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