\"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. You say I know nothing. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. “I’m thirsty.
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