She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Indeed, it seemed inevitable that she must clear it up with his assistance, or not at all. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. I firmly believe that she is as straight as a die. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. .
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