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. It is up to the Companions, the
high brass of time manipulation. I told Lazarus so-be is a Companion of the
Circle."
"Sweetheart, I am much more likely to listen to you. Lazarus would have
trouble selling me ten-crown notes for two crowns."
"His problem. But he has only one vote in the Circle, even though he is
senior. Of course he is always senior, anywhere."
That caught my ear. "This notion that Lazarus is two thousand years old-"
"More than that. Over twenty-four hundred."
"Either way. Who says that he is more than two millennia old? He looks
younger than I do."
"He's been rejuvenated several times."
"But who claims that he is that old? Forgive me, my love, but you can't
testify to it. Even if we credit you with every fortnight you claim, he would
still be more than ten times your age. If he is. Again, who says?"
"Uh... not me, that's true. But I have never had any reason to doubt it. I
think you should talk to Justin Foote." Hazel looked around. We were in that
lovely garden court outside the room in which I woke up. (Her room, I learned
later-or hers when she wanted it; such things were fluid. Other times use other
customs.) We were in that garden with other members of the Long family and
guests and friends and relations, eating tasty tidbits and getting quietly
slopped. Hazel picked out a mousy little man, the sort who is always elected
treasurer of any organization he belongs to
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