For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. There was only one prisoner in the ward. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. " "You'll never live to see that day," cried Blueskin, fixing a menacing look upon him.
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