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... e assured her, "don’t worry, they won’t kill him."
The scar-faced brute grew impatient and slapped the dancer’s behind, urging her to hurry up and do as told.
After accepting the hooligans’ payment, the dancer thought about how the money would spare her several days of work and suppressed her unease.
Beneath the moonlight, the shadowy figures in the alley ended their brief conversation, and the dancer turned to face the entrance of the tavern, composing herself.
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