But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. Presently he heard her voice. Let us be friends—as near and close as friends can be. I've got to know why. 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. She laughed softly, and leaned across the table. Good riddance to bad rubbish. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground.
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