’ ‘Even if they militiamen weren’t there, miss,’ cautioned her cavalier, ‘you couldn’t go marching into the house open like. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. 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. “Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully.
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