"With pleasure, Sir," replied Edgeworth Bess. 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. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. I saw the motor dashed to pieces against the wall, and I saw him pitched on his head into the road.
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