Maurice glanced at the young bank governor, who was staring off into space. He couldn't help but worry.
Did that kid drink too much and lose his wits?
How am I supposed to get anything useful out of him now?
Wondering, still, he decided to give it a shot anyway.
"Say, Jaxon," Maurice began casually, "The Gloam Wing Secret Service is always up to no good, so why are people still willing to fund them?"
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