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. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. "The traps!" responded a bystander. “I don’t understand. But just as they were about to place him on the ground, he burst from their hold, and made a desperate spring at Jonathan, who was standing with his arms folded near the door watching the scene.
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