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 | | "Who comes this way?" "Blaquesmith, you overgrown pelliworm, whom, exactly, were you expecting?" "Someone a little taller, about thrice your weight in stones," the man in question emerged from the shadows carrying a wrench, looking the sweatsuit-clad Mirrin over critically with his large eyes, "and not dressed like a fugitive from the Canaanite training academy. |
 | | Is there an appropriate place, or do I ask you to avert your gaze?" Blaquesmith was pacing when Mirrin returned from what she assumed was Nathan's chambers within this safehouse. |
 | | The sum total of it all is that you need to be absent here-and-now and the rest is just politics." Blaquesmith said nothing for a long moment, then smiled gently. |
| solo.abac.com /lubakmetyk/others/domenika/future02.txt (3083 words) |
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