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 watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. "Do you mean to say you will interfere—" "I mean to say this," interrupted Wild, with contemptuous calmness, "that I'll neither allow you to leave England nor the profession you've engaged in. ” “Where?” He asked. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner.
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