The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. At least for one moment, it was. 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. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. . " "Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. I do not love any one. You are a detective?" "Yes. It was ten feet long, a relic.
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