I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble. In Darrell's open features, frankness and honour were written in legible characters; while, in Jack's physiognomy, cunning and knavery were as strongly imprinted. 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. “You too were deceived. But I request that a third may be given to Langley. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her.
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