Min sighed regretfully, but it was not as if she had really expected Moiraine to turn up alive. That was simple truth; Faile seemed to like shouting, sometimes. Burn him if he was going to let one bunch think they were more important. Alviarin very much wanted to know.
The Aiel woman wore an Ebou Dari dress; not the plain wool she had returned in, but a silver-gray silk riding dress that jarred with her plain-sheathed horn-handled belt knife. Maeric nodded. Niande's book thudded to the floor from apparently nerveless fingers; she stared at the three men in black coats as she would have at the Dark One himself. Egwene suspected that Sheriam worked to dig up petitioners, something to butter the cat's paws, to keep her out of Sheriam's hair while the Keeper took care of what she considered important.
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