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. "Don't waste our time, you rascal. Show us something like that last lot."
"Please, noble sir. I must dispose of the lots in catalog order."
"Then get on with it! Or cuff that starved varmint aside and show us merchandise."
"You are kind, my lord." The auctioneer raised his voice. "I have been asked to be quick and I am sure my noble employer would agree. Let me be frank. This beautiful lad is young; his new owner must invest instruction in him. Therefore--" The boy hardly listened. He knew only a smattering of this language and what was said did not matter anyhow. He looked over the veiled ladies and elegant men, wondering which one would be his new problem.
"--a low starting price and a quick turnover. A bargain! Do I hear twenty stellars?"
The silence grew awkward. A lady, sleek and expensive from sandaled feet to lace-veiled face, leaned toward the dandy, whispered and giggled. He frowned, took out a dagger and pretended to groom his nails. "I said to get on with it," he growled.
The auctioneer sighed. "I beg you to remember, gentlefolk, that I must answer to my patron. But we'll start still lower. Ten stellars--yes, I said. 'Ten.' Fantastic!"
He looked amazed. "Am I growing deaf? Did someone lift a finger and I fail to see it? Consider, I beg you. Here you have a fresh young lad like a clean sheet of paper; you can draw any design you like. At this unbelievably low price you can afford to make a mute of him, or alter him as your fancy pleases
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