daon preserve me, Morian guard my soul.quot; try smile. t least. atery porridge in t, tasteless kter mai tea. ood still for a moment, still smiling faintly, breattle,  fine. Lifting o t breeze  taste to come.

    apping ick along toick imes  in tation at a dissolute court. ed to need it in ts ailed, .

    Perime in  nig oter just past, in Astibar.

    t. Only t rao admit traools along tly laid and stacked.

    In fact, if  careful, take  er: back to tried never to t. ired tired, after ted it on tain. It o ts normal size and sive to touco  not to limp.

    No one spoke. No one skirts of ty  fes after teto oo—a certain nursery melody from Avalle.

    ill playing, as gently as before. tune  seemed to be trying to carry Devin back to ed: if  t ion  now he would probably end up crying.

    Devin tried to imagine ing, elusive melody o anyone less . A company of gs passing by, t o be. tten tune. riana singing in t ly or rees so a dream of towers of Avalle.

    onigo t  to die. And noy-five Barbadians lao Alessan play a cradle song.

    tand trangeness of life if o be a hundred years old.

    tside and tiffened involuntarily. So did Ducas di tregea, a  t ered on tinued.

    An old man, sligooped, but e ood for a moment, backlit by t, before epped inside and pusick er t it o see for a fes.

    No one spoke. Alessan did not even look up again. tenderly, une. Devin looked at ood  to t about   ed and airred in  as ened to tful ending of t ion of regret