’Nowweplaythelastroundofthegame，butdonotboast，forGodaloneknowstowhomthevictoryshallbegiven。
Youhaveprosperedlong，butadaymaybeathandwhenyourprosperityshallceasewithyourbreath。
Toyourerrand，JuandeGarcia。’
Foramomenthesatsilent，pullingathispointedbeard，andwatchinghimIthoughtthatIcouldseetheshadowofahalf-
forgottenfearcreepintohiseyes。