Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. God knows how you did it. “You need not be alarmed,” he said. People think it is, but they are wrong. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. Sebastian grabbed a rock from a corner and bashed in its skull. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister.
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