” He seemed to be elaborating ideas as he talked. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. “I wish he had,” she said. "I've set a trap for him. She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk.
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