He squinted, steadying himself on the railing of the boat. Paul wagged his hand impatiently. Knocked almost senseless, I could not tell who capturedhim or how. It was as though they had been edited like an old fashioned videotape, between oneframe and the next--going, going, going, returning.
Tinto flickered a little, his resolution poor. She was not in the least like an actual person, but the tremor in her ridiculous pidginEnglish was real, and Orlando's chill abruptly returned. As Paul stared, his mind a dark whirlpool in which no thought would remain stationary for morethan an instant, the first large wave lifted the rowboat up, then set it down again. And there're a few other things we needto discuss, too.
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