Her tail flinched. It was a small movement, hidden behind her sudden relief and enthusiasm. "That it? Fer true? Huh, well I ain't got 'is name, but," she couldn't sell out her informant, "after I heard tell there was some wi' dirty pasts at th'Gate, I'd start gamin' th'dicers when I was swingin' 'round th'bars. Was some ol' sailor wi' a face full of hair what stank o' spiced meat oo gave me yer name, 'Lalataru,' he says. So I starts askin' if there was a Lalataru up at th'Gate, and sure as hooks ye are. That good? I can take ye t'the bar I was at, if't pleases ye."
Overeagerness to please shone in her eyes. She took a step forward. Her heart was hammering in her chest, in her ears: she had to force herself to breathe. Oh, but smiles for Lalataru. All smiles.
Overeagerness to please shone in her eyes. She took a step forward. Her heart was hammering in her chest, in her ears: she had to force herself to breathe. Oh, but smiles for Lalataru. All smiles.
