“You propose, then,” she remarked, “that I shall still be saddled with a pseudo husband. 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. It isn’t illusions—for us. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. Blueskin fought his way towards it, and exerting all his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded, reached it at the same time. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. Why didn’t he die?” Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod.
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