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Yet in a way the sound had comforted her, and even the flickering lights had reminded her of the world above, its relative sanity. 'Now it seemed someone was intent on denying her even these small comforts.
Idly he thought that one good use of the constables would be to stand at the intersections sorting out the traffic mess in the morning. By midday things would have died down a bit, but right now there were at least half a dozen fights brewing as teamsters, farmers, and delivery men all shouted insults at each other.
Verna clutched at him as he sank toward the floor. Warren! What is it? His Excellency . . . His Excellency has tasks for me. Tasks? Warren, what's wrong?