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She looked in both directions and also glanced behind us and upward.
"More people headed down," she remarked.
I looked back up and saw three figures near the top of the stairway,
but they were standing still, as if they'd only come down a short distance
to try the view. None of them wore Lleweila's colors. . . .
"Fellow sightseers," I said.
She watched them a moment longer, then looked away. "Aren't` there
caves along here somewhere?" she asked.
I nodded to my right.
"That way," I answered. "There's a whole series. People get lost in
them periodically. Some are pretty colorful. Others just wander through
darkness. A few are simply shallow openings."
"I'd like to see them," she said.
"Sure, easily done. Let's go." .
I began walking. The people on the stair had not moved. They still
appeared to be looking out to sea. I doubted they were smugglers. It doesn't
seem like a daytime occupation for a place where anyone might
wander by. Still, I was pleased that my faculty for suspi-cion was
growing. It seemed appropriate in light of recent events: The object of my
greatest suspicion, of course, was walking beside me, turning driftwood with
the toe of her boot, scuffing bright pebbles, laughing-but there was nothing
I was ready to do about it at the moment. Soon. . . .
She took my arm suddenly.
"Thanks for bringing me," she said
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