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Page 201
that consisted of a few shillings. At Francis's beaming, she assumed it was a reasonable amount, but she would need to check with Thorn.
With a sigh, she thought of the big bucks she'd once earned from Lemoncake Films for work that had seemed toughtill she had her chores here to compare it to.
She turned to look for Thorn, only to find him standing at the next able, his back to her.
He must have heard every word the proprietor said, Mariah realized, and nearly laughed aloud. The little man had achieved more than just good customer relations with her; he might also have gotten Thorn's attention.
Mariah touched his shoulder. "Mr. Thorn, could you advance my salary so that"
"I believe you could do better elsewhere." His voice was calm, but she noted the gleam in his brown eyes. He was baiting Mr. Allen.
"Not at all, Mr. Thorn!" The proprietor's voice was indignant. "I provide the best bargains west of Philadelphia; you know that."
"What I know is"
"Thorn!" A boisterous male voice erupted from the front of the store. Mariah turned to see a thin man in an unbuttoned British uniform coat maneuvering his way through the tables and piles of goods.
"Ainsley!" Mariah couldn't remember having seen Thorn smile so broadly before. In seconds he, too, was picking out a path through the crowded store toward the other man.
Ainsley. Mariah had heard the name before. . . . Oh, yes; Thorn's friend whom René had told her about. The one who'd explained to René all the horrors of the time when the boy had been lost and his mother killed herselfand Thorn blamed himself.
The two men met between a keg of whiskey and a table laden with knives and miscellaneous goods. They embraced; then Ainsley stepped back. "Life as a tradesman agrees with you, brother," he said.
"And life as a soldier, how does it treat you?" Thorn's voice w low and tinged with an emotion Mariah guessed

 
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