The doctor laughed. "A little, Sir," replied the executioner, with a grim smile. 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 had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance.
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