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. “I think you are getting to understand me better. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. " And then he added, in an under tone, "Conceal yourself outside, and be within call. ‘Very well, Kimble. Wood. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone.
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