Manfred De La Rey, the quiet stern young man, humourless and grave,slightly gauche in unaccustomed clothi As the lowering sun painted the desert with shadow and fresh colour,Centaine picked out another small herd of spring-bok and pointed out aplump young ram to Shasa. rrugated iron echoed to the thunder of the steam presses and thecacophony of the lathes and turret head drills. He lowered her to sit on one of thelichen-covered boulders.
You flaunt your sins before the world. That's how thecutters cleave a stone before polishing, Centaine cut in. That is greatness, Manfred said, watching himgo. The paper in her hand fluttered.
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