Sharpe stood at something almost like attention -- the blasted (but loved) rifle on his shoulder. He woke up this morning only to find the gifted gun to be his own, familiar weapon instead. The Shift had made him identify it with Harry. Or perhaps the departure of the Shift had qualitatively changed it. Richard hardly knew; hardly cared. Other problems to untangle.

He cleared his throat when he saw the man. A hesitation found its way into his features.