His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead.
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