He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. “So, Rhea must have known you for what you are. ’ ‘That we shall see. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished.
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