Phil Goff sat with his hands clasped, that slightly goofy grin. John Tamihere looked surly. His hands were clasped too, it was like they both knew not to clench them. And then it started.
Tamihere called everything broken. Goff said, I don't know what city that is, Auckland's a good city. Goff said he was fixing things and Tamihere said he didn't know what city that was because Goff wasn't doing anything. The words poured from both of them, on waves that rose to anger and subsided, and rose again.
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