Do you think we could manage that old clothesman between us, if we got out of this box?" "I'd manage him myself, if my arms were free," replied Thames, boldly. He resolved to judge for himself. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. 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. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor.
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