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Molin didnt bother himself with such small business his spies tended to it. He had too many things to take care of himself. There was his new god to placate, old ones to assist out of existence, Kadakithis and in a different fashion the Beysa to manage. And there was the wall. As an exercise in logistics alone it was trouble enough.
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But none of this had stopped Harry Keogh and his Tartars. On the second floor landing the door to a tiny anteroom stood open. The room had served as an office for Borowitzs secretary, Yul Galenski. Krakovitch had known him personally a generally timid man, a clerk with no extrasensory talent. Just staff.
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