‘Will you let be?’ Instead she grasped his hand tighter. 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 refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. Keep his arms down. . He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch.
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