He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. 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. When he left these premises, three years ago, I took them from him; or rather—to deal frankly with you,—he placed me in them rent-free, for, I'm not ashamed to confess it, I've had losses, and heavy ones; and, if it hadn't been for him, I don't know where I should have been.
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