” “I do not know who he is,” Brendon said quietly, “but he will not forget. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. ” He said, uncrossing his arms. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. That night in his den he smoked many pipes.
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