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. It wasn't just
gracefulness. It was more a state of beingpreparedness, I guess. Several
times I noticed her glancing back in the direction from which we had come. I
looked myself, but there was nothing unusual to see. Once, when a man
stepped suddenly from a doorway we were approaching, I saw her hand flash
toward the dagger at her belt, then drop away.
"There is so much activity, so much going on here . . . ," she
commented after a time.
"True. Begma is less busy; I take it?"
"Considerably."
"Is it a pretty safe place to stroll about?"
"Oh, yes."
"Do the women as well as the men take military training there?"
"Not ordinarily. Why?"
"Just curious."
"I've had some training in armed and unarmed combat though," she said.
"Why was that?" I asked.
"My father suggested it. Said it could come in hand for a relative of
someone in his position. I thought he might be right. I think he really
wanted a son."
"Did your sister do it, too?"
"No; she wasn't interested."
"You planning on a diplomatic career?"
"No. You're talking to the wrong sister."
"A wealthy husband?"
"Probably stodgy and boring."
"What then?"
"Maybe I'll tell you later."
"All right. I'll ask if you don't."
We made our way southward along the Concourse, and the breezes picked
up as we neared Land's End
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