” The lady in black satin looked at the pile of luggage outside and hesitated. There was scant social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, little that interested him. Go easy. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. ‘Dunderhead. ‘Bring her to me and we shall see.
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