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Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. 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. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion. These desperadoes had been the most active in demolishing the coach, and now, being supported by the rabble, they audaciously approached the very portals of the ancient Hall.
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