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OF OREICHALKOS FORGED In Victorian times Warren would no doubt have been a shady purveyor of mummies and Roman statues of doubtful ancestry. But nowadays all things classical were quite passé, while precolumbian pottery and ancient eskimo carvings were definitely in. Warren was willing to provide them in any required quantity. His clients seldom had reason to complain. None of them were archeologists. He studied the knife the girl had just unwrapped. Leafshaped, almost a foot long it shone a particulary rich golden red. Burmese gold? He hefted the artifact. No, copper at most. Not even the customary core of lead to add weight. He raised his head. "Looks good. Did you forge it yourself?" The girl frowned, pursed her lips. She had the finely sculpted face and flawless complection of a Hindu princess Warren thought. "It isn't a forgery!" Her voice was thin and high, not pleasing at all. Warren slowly shook his head. "Not a forgery then. All right. Perhaps then you would care to explain some... ah, let us call them anomalies?" He placed |
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