Leudast lost no sleep over that, or over the provenance of thechunks of mutton and chicken in the cookpots. He had no idea what people who madeINTo THE DARKNESSrit. As for what his peoplethought . Hewhirled.
The air was not. That doesn't mean he isn't a handful- or two handfuls, or three. When she dishe blinked in surprise, as if someone else's hand, not her own, had dothat writing. In the last vil-lage where the squad had been stationed, he'd talked a reasonably prettygirl into sleeping with him.
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