Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. " On a shelf was placed a row of paint-jars; the contents of which had been daubed in rainbow streaks upon the adjacent closet and window sill. I must bless him before I die. 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. He stood before her. But I shan’t try to stop you.
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