Peter looked at me from behind her.“What did you do to her?” I asked in a whisper.Then all the memories flooded back. I inhaled sharply and winced...at the pain. “Where’s Rufus? Is he okay?”Amelia nodded. She finally spoke. “He’s at the vet recovering.”“What’s wrong with you?” I whispered, still shocked at her appearance.Amelia glared at me, eyes darkening. “You’re what’s wrong with me! You almost died!” Then tears welled in her beautiful eyes. “You almost left me behind, Mike.”“Never,” I. " Oh, yes. A very fine sight these local dignitaries make in English hunting pink on fine horses. The only way you would know it wasn't the Quorn or some other English meet is that all the Kobekistanis are excellent riders. That and the hounds, of course." The hounds, Sir?" We use pure-bred Irish Wolfhounds. I believe I own more of them than anyone else in the world, by a very large margin. We need them for the sort of country we have, and the quarry is a slave, usually female." Expensive,. More

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