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 are one of those who must know all about it. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. He seemed to her indistinguishably about her father’s age.
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