She was practicing with them on that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as first chair. 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. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. I went to the theatre that night. "With pleasure, Sir," replied Edgeworth Bess. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. Alban's to-night. He advanced a step towards her. Today you shall promise me that you will pull no more of these stunts. ‘Well?’ she said.
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