He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. ’ Roding gave him a look of respect. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. “Do you want to ruin me? I shall walk back. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. Sheppard, with startling eagerness. .
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