With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. Still—you must learn for yourself. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. Saren Chen was a tall woman, thin and beautiful in a masculine way, Germanic. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. I'll show you the Shamien; and we can talk all we want.
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