"Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. But I must summon my janizaries. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Sheppard, sinking backwards upon the pallet. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one.
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