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In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Gerald liked her enormously. Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. 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. This was in Tennessee. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. But his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet.
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