I burned it. "I couldn't bear to see you in it. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. 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. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. ‘You are rude, and stupide, and altogether a person with whom I do not wish to speak.
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