She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life, Lucy, and that’s saying something. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. Good riddance. " The Wastrel laughed. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face.
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