It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. To-day is for the sights; the other three days—lessons. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. But we can’t help noticing. 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. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail.
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