CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. Gerald’s breath caught. Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. “You certainly got him in the bag. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds.
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