He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. 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. “You silly fool,” he said. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. I wouldn’t even have to use very much gasoline. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly.
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