" The Wastrel rushed. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. They had scrubbed and dusted, torn down and hung up until noon.
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