She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. " "Probably Mr.
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