When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. ” “Did Michelle call to invite you to the Vorsack’s dinner party afterward?” He asked. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's.
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