"One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. 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 want to but I cannot! Please accept that!” She yelled. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. She was quite unconcerned. “Sure.
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