Finally Baelish drew rein in front of a ramshackle building, three stories, timbered, its windows bright with lamplight in the gathering dusk. Tyrion had made a special effort to learn all their names, so he might thank them later for their tender treatment of him. I liked it. Go on, Robb told him.
Scum you may be, but you're undeniably useful, and with a sword in your hand you're almost as good as my brother Jaime. Ned frowned, his face darkening. I've half a mind to buy it. This is the same.
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