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. Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. The chance it is the same for both. “How do you feel?” she asked. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March.
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