Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. The street was deserted, no pedestrian school-goers walked immediately in front or behind them. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. ” He turned to the waiter, who held a wine-card.
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