In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. Something in her tone made him look up. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. 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!” she exclaimed. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. "There's no outlet that way.
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