Mike leaned forward in his chair, planting his forearms on the table. In his plain white tunic, adorned only with the slender gold coronet, he stood out among the brightly dressed kings and nobles like a white deer in the dark forest. As a rule, Wallenstein was a better judge of men—at least their capabilities, if not their morality. processtext.
And what will you do now, Reverend Sirs? Johann smiled, and looked at Friedrich. I have, then, another suggestion. An approved Catholic translation. Be it so, then.
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