"Impossible!" echoed Wild, with a fearful imprecation. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. 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. Imagine any one on this side refusing fifty bucks! Well, I'll be toddling along.
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