" "If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped through the back window," replied Jonathan. 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. ” She whispered. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. ’ I said. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal. Before her was a great Gothic portal.
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