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. "What ship was that?" Thorby asked. "Not the Syndon liner."
"Free Trader Romany Lass, bound for the Rim . . . and your friend was in her. You go home now and get your breakfast. No, go buy your breakfast, for a treat."
Baslim no longer tried to hide his extra-professional activities from Thorby, although he never explained the why or how. Some days only one of them would beg, in which case the Plaza of Liberty was always the pitch, for it appeared that Baslim was especially interested in arrivals and departures of ships and most especially movements of slave ships and the auction that always followed the arrival of one.
Thorby was more use to him after his education had progressed. The old man seemed to think that everyone had a perfect memory and he was stubborn enough to impress his belief despite the boy's grumbles.
"Aw, Pop, how do you expect me to remember? You didn't give me a chance to look at it!"
"I projected that page at least three seconds. Why didn't you read it?"
"Huh? There wasn't time."
"I read it. You can, too. Thorby, you've seen jugglers in the Plaza. You've seen old Mikki stand on his head and keep nine daggers in the air while he spins four hoops with his feet?"
"Uh, sure."
"Can you do that?"
"No."
"Could you learn to?"
"Uh . . . I don't know."
"Anyone can learn to juggle . . . with enough practice and enough beatings
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