These he will drive with oil from Citgo. Avery ain’t much of a shake, but Rimer’s a trig boy. Cordelia stood and watched, fists clenching and unclenching, heedless of the sparks that lit on her skin, heedless of the blazing leaves that swirled toward the house. All the Barony’s meanness, all its petty (and not so petty) cruelties, all its cozening and lying lay before her.
The vaq looked over one shoulder and saw a dim figure. ed playing cards—and the one which turned up with the most persistence was the face of Will Dearborn. On any other day the view and the cool, salt-smelling breeze would have uplifted her. My father did, too.
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