The Master wavers, because that is true. Easy victories are unsatisfying victories, tasting of ash, instead of sweetness. They serve only to wet the appetite. Still, the Master feels no obligation to admit to any truth, that one included. He grins, a sharks smile.
"Easy, my dear Doctor? I've chased you for centuries. We both know we alone are each other's intellectual equals."
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"Easy, my dear Doctor? I've chased you for centuries. We both know we alone are each other's intellectual equals."