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 left a message at home that he should do so as soon as he returned from Kent. Hogarth," he observed, significantly. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged.
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