We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
Chapter eight
Chapter eight Of the sharing of clothes“Now what are we going to do?” Hundle the Design, skinny as a spear-shaft, stepped forward. Everyone left in the party gathered around as the twin suns rose. Their warmth on this morning, their refulgence, brought no happy welcome. Hundle had proved knowledgeable about the boat and the way she should be handled. Now he said: “I was a Schinkitree master before my boat hit a half-submerged log and filled and sank. I lost my boat, all the merchandise I carried for the merchant Dorian Merlo, who was a Lamnia and my friend, my living and my freedom.” They all listened, not shouting out about what the hell had this to do with their plight now. The thin ex-boat master was clearly leading up to something important he had to say. “Go on, Hundle the Design
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD
