Don Juan shrugged as if to say well, if you say so and moved further into the hall. He set his champagne glass down on a long, thin table with a vase of flowers that at this time of year was mostly leaves, so that he wouldn't have to worry about it giving away the tremor in his hand. "You've no experience hiding with me, though," he pointed out. He assumed everyone knew at least some piece of his reputation by now, and that where they hadn't heard much they could easily fill in the gaps with something worst than the truth. "That might be worst of all, in the end."

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