Lucy's ears were singing. . She confronted him with his own double-standard. 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. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table.
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