Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. " The Wastrel advanced. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. She heard their feet and muffled voices.
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