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. Then I brushed off my deep purple jacket, the one on which I'd
once laid a spell to make the wearer seem a little more charming, witty, and
trustworthy than is actually the case. It seemed a good occasion for getting
some use out of it.
As I was brushing my hair there came a knock on the door.
"Just a minute," I called.
I finished up-which left me ready to go and also, probably, running
late-then went to the door, unbarred it, and opened it.
Bill Roth stood there in browns and reds, looking like an aging
condottiere.
"Bill!" I said, clasping his hand, arm, and shoulder and leading him
in. "Good to see you. I'm just back from some troubles and about to take off
after more. I didn't know whether you were here in the palace now or what. I
was going to look you up again as soon as things slowed a bit."
He smiled and punched my shoulder lightly.
"I'll be at dinner," he replied, "and Hendon said you'd be there, too.
I thought I'd come up and walk over with you, though, since those Begman
people will be there.
"Oh? You got some news?"
"Yes. Any fresh word on Luke?"
"I was just talking to him. He says the vendetta's off."
"Any chance of his wanting to justify himself at that hearing you asked
me about?"
"Not from the way he sounded."
"Too bad. I've bean doing a lot of research, and there are some good
precendents for the vendetta defense-like, there was your uncle Osric, who
took on the whole House of Karen over the death of a relative on his
mother's side
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