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 was dated from the House of Commons on the previous day. "Can't I settle this business, Captain," muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol. He was even a little jealous of Sebastian. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair.
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