He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. " The Wastrel laughed. He nodded silently, too full for words. Oh, you must believe me. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. “Promise.
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