Money Stuff: People
Are Worried About Payment for Order Flow
Banning PFOF or whatever
Okay let’s do payment for order flow again, because people
are talking about it and that always stresses me out. Here’s an intuitive
description of how it works.[1] A million people come to a broker to trade
GameStop Corp. stock. Half of them want to buy shares, half of them want to
sell shares. One share each, all using market orders, all at precisely the same
time. The stock exchange has half a million shares of GameStop available for
sale at $58.25, and orders to buy half a million shares for $58. The broker
could send all of its customers’ orders to the stock exchange, where the buy
orders would be filled at $58.25 and the sell orders would be filled at $58;
the broker would pay the exchange a small fee for executing these orders.[2]
But! The broker realizes, look, all these people who want to
buy shares could be matched up with all these people who want to sell shares. I
don’t have to pay a fee to the exchange, the buyers don’t have to pay $58.25,
and the sellers don’t have to get $58. The buyers could pay $58.15 and save 10
cents, the sellers could get $58.10 and make an extra 10 cents, and I could
keep 5 cents (and avoid the exchange’s fee) for my trouble. That’s a good deal
for everyone!
This is called “internalizing”: Your broker executes your
order internally, against its other orders, rather than sending it out to the
exchange. In practice a typical retail broker doesn’t have the ability to do
this, so it sends its orders to what is usually, in the business, called a
“wholesaler” (or sometimes “internalizer”), and usually, outside of the
business, called a “high-frequency trader.”[3] Popular wholesalers include
Citadel Securities, G1X Execution Services LLC, Two Sigma Securities LLC, Virtu
Financial Inc., Wolverine Securities, etc. The wholesaler does the thing I just
said: It pays the sellers more for their shares than the exchange offers,
charges the buyers less for shares than the exchange would, and keeps 5 cents
for itself. Well, it keeps, say, 3 cents for itself, and sends 2 cents back to
the retail broker who sent it the trade. The broker has subcontracted the
internalizing job to the wholesaler, and they share the profits.
This is not actually an accurate description of the
mechanics, because in fact a million orders don’t all come in at once. The U.S.
equities trading day has 6.5 hours, which is a lot of milliseconds, and the
odds of even two offsetting trades coming to a broker in any particular
millisecond are low. People want their trades executed quickly and at the
current market price; it would not be okay for your broker (or the wholesaler)
to just sit on your order for a few hours—as the market moved—until it
accumulated enough orders to match them all up.
But the key insight
is that you can model it as though this were true. If the wholesaler gets a
retail buy order now, it will probably get an offsetting sell order in 10
milliseconds or 10 seconds or 10 minutes. If the buy order can be filled at
$58.15 now, the offsetting sell can probably be filled at $58.10 later, so the
wholesaler can make its 5 cents. So the wholesaler executes the trades for its own account, out of
inventory: If a retail sell order comes in, the wholesaler buys the shares and
owns them for a little while; eventually a buy order comes in and takes the
shares off the wholesaler’s hands. The wholesaler bridges the time gap
between buyers and sellers. It uses its
balance sheet to buy the stocks people want to sell and sell the stocks people
want to buy, confident that over the course of the day those desires will
mostly offset and it will make its spread.
Because it uses its balance sheet, the wholesaler takes
price risk: If it sells stock for $58.15 now, and the price of the stock goes
up in the next 10 seconds, it might have to buy the stock at $60.10 later,
losing $1.95 on the trade, oops. But of course if it had sold stock first and
bought stock later, it would have made $1.95. With enough retail trades,
this should all balance out, and the wholesaler will mostly just earn the
spread.
If the retail trades
are random. If retail traders usually buy before the stock goes up, and
sell before the stock goes down, the wholesaler would consistently lose money
on price risk. (This is called “adverse
selection.”) But they don’t. Even now, retail traders tend to be small, dispersed
and uninformed. If you sell stock to a retail trader for $58.15, you have no
particular reason to think it will go up (or down). The retail traders are
trading randomly, which is what allows you to treat this problem as though you
were matching them up with each other at a fixed price and collecting a spread.
In reality you are matching them up with each other over time, not
simultaneously, and the price moves while you are doing it, but the
randomness of their trading means that this difference doesn’t matter too much.
Meanwhile market
makers on the public exchange are doing something similar, but with
institutional traders who tend to be informed and trade large lots of
stock, so their trading does carry a lot more risk of adverse selection.
If a big institution buys
some stock, that does mean the stock is somewhat more likely to go up,
so if you sell them the stock you are somewhat more likely to lose money. This
is why the spread on the public exchange—the difference between the $58 best
bid to buy the stock and the $58.25 best offer to sell the stock—is so much
wider than the 5 cents that the wholesaler charges. The wholesaler is just
matching up small pleasant random orders and clipping a spread; the stock-exchange market maker is facing a
real risk of being run over by an informed trader.
And so this has developed into a market practice. Retail
brokers send their customer orders to wholesalers. The wholesalers fill the
orders at a price better than the “national best bid and offer” on the stock
exchange: If the stock is quoted at $58 bid, $58.25 offered on the exchange,
the wholesaler might pay $58.10 to buy it and charge $58.15 to sell it. This is
called “price improvement.” The
wholesaler pockets the rest of the spread (the 5 cents), but it also writes a
check to the broker for the broker’s trouble (the 2 cents in my example). This
is called “payment for order flow,” or
“PFOF,” though sometimes people use that term loosely to describe this
whole system of internalization. The numbers I am using here are fake, and the
breakdown will depend on the stock involved, the brokerage, etc. But we can
very roughly assume that, of the
value that the wholesaler provides, about 80% is paid to customers in the
form of price improvement and about 20% is paid to the broker in the form of
payment for order flow.[4]
Now of course I am oversimplifying. For one thing, the
wholesalers don’t have to fill every order out of inventory; they will do that
with some orders and pass others on to the exchange to execute. They do not
provide price improvement on 100% of orders, though they do compete to provide
price improvement and are evaluated by brokers based on how much they provide.
They will often lay off risk on the public markets rather than trading
exclusively with retail customers; often
they will be in the business of market making on the exchanges too, and
will manage that business and the retail business in some interacting way.
Anyone who trades a lot of stock benefits from having information about order
flow, and a wholesaler who sees a lot of retail orders will have some
informational advantages in its public trading. (Not necessarily that much
advantage, if retail orders are random, but some. The other day I published
some Citadel Securities data showing that in fact retail traders were net
sellers of GameStop stock for much of last week. That data was surprising to
me! The popular narrative was that retail traders were buying GameStop hand
over fist, but that turned out to be not quite right. Citadel Securities knew
the real story.) There are various glitches and curlicues and pockets of
unfairness that wholesalers sometimes exploit, and sometimes they get in
trouble for this. But for the most part what I wrote above explains (1) how it
works and (2) the economic intuition behind it.
I feel like most of what I read about payment for order flow
is insane? Otherwise normal people will start out mainstream explainer articles
by saying, like, “Robinhood sells your order to Citadel so Citadel can
front-run it.” No! First of all, it is illegal to front-run your order, and the
Securities and Exchange Commission does, you know, keep an eye on this stuff.
Second, the wholesaler is ordinarily filling your order at a price that is
better than what’s available in the public market, so “front-running”—going out
and buying on the stock exchange and then turning around and selling to you at
a profit—doesn’t work.[5] Third, because retail orders are generally
uninformative, the wholesaler is not rubbing its hands together being like
“bwahahaha now I know that Matt Levine is buying GameStop, it will definitely
go up, I must buy a ton of it before he gets any!”[6] The whole story is widely
accepted but also completely transparent nonsense.
One more piece of background about payment for order flow. A
few years back, Robinhood Markets
Inc. had a crucial insight: Instead of charging a $5
commission and passing along 80% of the wholesaler’s discount to customers in
the form of price improvement, it could charge no commission and pass along
20%, keeping the other 80% for itself. This, I have argued, was
basically a smart marketing decision that saved its customers a lot of money
and that Robinhood should have bragged about, but instead they lied and were
squirrelly about it and got in trouble with the SEC. Presumably they have
mended their ways, stopped lying about it, and are closer to industry-standard
splits now. But they still take PFOF (like most retail brokers), and they still
don’t charge commissions.
And their original insight caused a lasting change to the
retail brokerage business. Free trades really were a lot more appealing than $5
trades. This model attracted customers to Robinhood, which quickly became the
hot brokerage for the young trading-on-their-phones crowd. It pressured other
retail brokerages to do away with commissions too, and eventually most did; now
the norm, if you want to trade stock, is that you can do it for free. Also,
intuitively, it is good for volume: If it costs you $5 to trade stock, you will
feel some friction; you won’t want to sit around trading stocks frantically all
day, because those $5 charges add up. If it costs you $0 to trade stock, there
is no friction, and if you don’t have a lot else going on—say during a
pandemic-induced lockdown—you really might sit around all day trading stocks.
Since your broker gets some PFOF on every order, this is good for your broker: Doing 100 free trades, each with
a bit of PFOF, is probably better for the broker than doing one $5 trade.
I wrote yesterday that, as the GameStop thing unwinds,
people are going to be mad and want to do something about it, and that there
will be “a focus on irrelevancies, a sort of ‘we have to do something, this is
something’ approach.” Banning or restricting payment for order flow does seem
to be on the list of somethings. Andrew Ross Sorkin proposed banning it in a
column this week. And here’s the Wall Street Journal with a roundup of
complaints:
Some Silicon Valley investors, including Benchmark Capital
partner Bill Gurley and the billionaire former Facebook Inc. executive Chamath
Palihapitiya, attacked payment for order flow on Twitter. Mr. Gurley urged the
Securities and Exchange Commission to end the practice, writing on Sunday: “If
the SEC/government wants to ‘fix the plumbing’ the number one thing they should
do is ban Payment for Order Flow.”
Payment for order flow is likely to come up at a House
Financial Services Committee hearing on Feb. 18 devoted to the GameStop
episode, said Rep. Al Green (D., Texas), a member of the committee.
I don’t exactly get it, but I don’t get almost anything that
is written about PFOF, so that is no surprise. But it might be worth laying out
what “banning
payment for order flow” could mean. I think there are three things
it could mean.
1. Banning payment for order flow. One thing it could mean
is that wholesalers are no longer allowed to pay brokers for their order
flow. Everything else would remain as it was. The industry standard now
seems to be that wholesalers give retail brokers roughly 80% price improvement
and 20% PFOF; you could just write a rule that says “brokers have to pass on
100% in the form of price improvement, you can’t take payment for order flow,
because that feels like a bribe.”
This rule would probably be fine? It would force wholesalers
to compete, and brokers to evaluate them, on their ability to provide price
improvement. Currently retail brokers have an obligation to provide “best
execution” to their customers, which they generally fulfill by routing orders
to wholesalers and carefully monitoring how much price improvement those
wholesalers provide. But this interacts awkwardly with the fact that they’re
also getting PFOF, and the fact that the PFOF sort of necessarily reduces the
price improvement. (It’s all one pot of money that can be split however the
brokers and wholesalers agree.) Getting rid of PFOF would make the evaluation
simpler and less conflicted: You just route orders to the wholesalers who
provide the best price for your customers, without worrying about who’s paying
you more.
I don’t think this would materially change much about the
structure of U.S. equity markets: Brokers would still route orders to
wholesalers (because they want to get price improvement for their customers),
wholesalers would still execute most retail stock trades, and wholesalers would
still have a good and profitable though competitive business.
But there would be one
big change, which is that retail brokers would have less money: Payment for
order flow is a revenue source, and they’d lose it. This might force them to
charge commissions again. Or it might not? Patrick McKenzie once pointed
out that “57% of Schwab’s revenues are from net interest. The firm could
literally give away every other service; discount the mutual fund fees to zero,
do away with commissions, etc etc, and they would still be profitable.” That is
no longer quite so true,[7] but I think you could still imagine a
discount-brokerage business model that didn’t require either commissions or
payment for order flow.
On the other hand I’m not sure you’d want to. The Robinhood
model is good for brokers because (1) it gets them a little bit of money on
each trade and (2) it encourages a lot of trades. If you get rid of (1)—if
there’s no per-trade payment to the broker—then the brokers have less reason to
want a ton of trading, and so less reason to keep commissions at zero.
Still, if one broker can keep them at zero, that’s going to be a competitive
advantage in attracting customers, and you still make money from customers
(even if not from trades). So there will be competitive pressure to keep
commissions at zero, and it’s at least possible that someone will figure out
how to do it.
2. Ban internalization. To the extent your complaint about
payment for order flow is that brokers shouldn’t route retail orders to
wholesalers, but should instead send all orders to the stock exchange where they
belong, then you could make a rule to say that. Banning PFOF, by itself, would
presumably not change the order flow going to wholesalers: Retail brokers
seeking best execution of their customers’ orders would still send those orders
to wholesalers, because those wholesalers offer price improvement over the
prices available on the stock exchange.
In fact the SEC case against Robinhood sort of implies that
brokers have to do this, that they are required to seek price improvement and
so can’t just take the publicly available price on the stock exchange. That
overstates things: The stock exchanges do compete for retail orders by trying
to segregate them from institutional orders and giving them price improvement.
The New York Stock Exchange, for instance, has a “Retail Liquidity Program,”
and you can sort of think of it as internalization but on the stock exchange.
“Liquidity providers”—high-frequency trading firms—compete to offer price
improvement to retail orders that come to the exchange’s program. It’s the same
basic structure I laid out above, but on the exchange.
You could have a rule like “any time a broker gets a retail
order, it has to send it to the public stock exchange instead of internalizing
it.”
A rule like this really could change equity market
structure. It would be great for exchanges, the for-profit oligopoly that
handles stock trading; they’d execute many more trades and collect many more
fees. Trading would be even more expensive for brokers, making it even more
likely that they’d have to go back to charging commissions. I’m not sure it
would matter much otherwise; perhaps the exchanges’ retail programs would fully
substitute for internalization, retail traders would get price improvement
similar to what they get now, and the result would be similar to the first
version, banning only PFOF.
Or perhaps you’d get rid of even those programs and lump all
orders together on the exchange, anonymously, so that any trade a market maker
does might be with a giant hedge fund or with me buying 10 shares.[9] The rough
intuitive result would be that big institutions would face lower trading costs,
while retail investors would face higher costs: If you blend everyone together,
the risk of adverse selection is somewhere between where it is on the exchange
now (all institutions) and where it is for wholesalers now (all retail), so the
spread will be somewhere in between too. Public spreads will go down, which is
good for institutions, but retail investors won’t get price improvement, so
they’ll pay more.
This would be good for institutions, which means me, because
despite some hypothetical examples above I don’t actually trade stocks; I own
boring index funds. Lots of people do. To the extent that the lesson of
GameStop is “people are having way too much fun trading stocks and should buy
boring index funds instead,” maybe it would be good to push them in that
direction.
3. Banning zero commissions. To the extent your complaint
about payment for order flow is that it enables zero-commission online retail trading,
and zero-commission online retail trading is bad, you could just … ban that?
Directly? Instead of banning a different thing that might or might not result
in the return of brokerage commissions?
Like I recognize of course that there is an emotional appeal
to “forbid shady kickback payments to brokers from evil high-frequency trading
firms who are front-running your orders,” and no emotional appeal at all to
“forbid brokers from giving their customers a free service.” It is politically
terrible to go back to the days of regulated commissions, to make retail
traders pay more, to de-democratize finance. It is not going to happen! No one
is going to announce a rule like “trades can’t be free now sorry, you gotta
charge at least $5 per trade.”
Still, if you think that “the problem in GameStop was PFOF,”
surely this is what you actually mean? The problem in GameStop was not that
retail traders got slightly better executions by having their orders routed to
electronic wholesalers, or any conspiracy between those wholesalers and short
sellers and Robinhood or whatever. The problem in GameStop was that way too
many retail traders made way too many dumb trades, and if there was some
friction maybe they would not have.
Of course there is a trade-off here, and it is not at all
obvious how much the government should do to prevent retail traders from making
dumb trades. One possible reaction to GameStop would be, like, “you can’t trade
individual stocks unless you are an institutional investor,” and that probably
goes too far. Charging five bucks a trade is a much milder reaction, but still
it also probably goes too far for U.S. politics.
How’s GameStop doing?
GameStop Corp. (GME) common stock closed yesterday at
$53.50, down 42%. It’s having a nice little rally today, trading at around $70
at 11 a.m. Even at $53.50, it’s up 184% on the year.
On Reddit, someone asked if Elon Musk is going to buy
GameStop, and they are correct that that would be the funniest possible ending
to all of this.[10] I joked last week that he should do this, but that by this
week he wouldn’t be able to afford it. That was when GameStop traded at an
equity market capitalization of about $25 billion. Now it’s about $5 billion.
He can totally afford it. He should do it. Convert all the mall locations into
Elon Merch Stores, selling flamethrowers and satin shorts.
This is not investment advice. If you are thinking about
sinking your last dollar into GameStop, do not do it because someone on the
internet made some jokes about Elon Musk. I should not have to say this, but we
are living in weird times.
On the other hand if you are Elon Musk and you are reading
this, sure, this is investment advice, get to work, YOLO.
As of this morning it seems that there are 8.6 million
people on Reddit’s WallStreetBets forum. If each of them is the main character
of exactly one movie about GameStop, there will be 8.6 million movies about
GameStop and WallStreetBets. As of right now that strikes me as an underestimate.
But some redditors are worried:
By Thursday morning, that quest for Hollywood riches had
exploded into an ugly battle, giving a glimpse into the unruly nature of a
suddenly famous Reddit community.
That was when the WallStreetBets moderators who were
considering the film deal began booting out other moderators who had questioned
them for secretly trying to profit from the forum’s success. Eventually,
employees at Reddit weighed in to try to quell the unrest. …
Over the last week, several top moderators, who have
administrative control of the message board, met in a private chat room on
Discord to discuss the business opportunities arising from their sudden fame.
One moderator said he was in touch with Ben Mezrich, an
author of the book that became the movie “The Social Network,” who last week
secured deals to write a book and help with a movie about the GameStop saga,
according to screenshots from the forum shared with The Times.
“Oof we gotta go fast i think,” another moderator wrote
back. “While the studios are competing.”
In all seriousness there will only be, like, 30 or 40
GameStop movies, tops, so they are right to want to move fast. My basic model
of the GameStop trade is that of a pump-and-dump: If you are going to get into
a stock at a wildly inflated price, you’d better make sure that you can get out
before everyone else does. The same basic model applies to the GameStop movies.
If you are going to get into a crazy stock trade that gets made into dozens of
movies, you’d better get attached to one of those movies before everyone else
does. The real bagholders will be the ones who don’t sell their rights to
Hollywood.
We’ve talked around here about Sarah Meyohas, the artist who
once sat in a gallery manipulating penny stocks and painting their price charts
on canvas, then sold the paintings for $10,000 each. One lesson here is that
you can afford to lose money on your trading if you package it into art and
sell the art for more than you lost. I am not sure that Hollywood has enough money
to cover WallStreetBets’ GameStop losses, but it has a lot of money, and it
seems to be spending a large chunk of it on GameStop? Perhaps the ultimate
buyers who will rescue the GameStop diamond hands are not squeezed short
sellers or delta-hedging options dealers or index funds or Elon Musk, but the
movies. I hope that is a plot point in the movies; like, with five minutes
left, the protagonist is in despair, about to lose his house, and then a
Hollywood producer shows up with a bag of money offering to buy the rights to
his story.
How’s the securities lending market doing?
This made me laugh, and I am not a person who usually laughs
at monthly updates on the state of securities finance:
Global securities lending revenues totaled $979m in January,
a 24% YoY increase. That marks the fifth consecutive month of increasing global
returns. The month ended with short-squeeze fireworks, which also had the
impact of boosting on-loan balances in many hard to borrow shares, a
substantial boost to US equity revenues. In this note we will review revenue
drivers from January, a cracking start to the new year. ...
The most revenue generating US equity in January 2021 was
GameStop (GME) with $41m, generated largely as the result of the share price
increasing 1,600% over the course of the month. The GME borrow fee did increase
amid the volatility, however it remained lower than peak fees observed around
the proxy record date in 2020.
The GameStop short squeeze was a high-stakes battle between
Reddit traders who were long the stock and hedge funds who were short, an
intense struggle to see who would give up first and lose everything. But also
it was a way for banks and stock lenders to stand to one side and make so much
money. The house usually wins, is an important lesson here.
Not everything is securities fraud
We talked the other day about a Supreme Court case to decide
whether or not shareholders of a company can sue for securities fraud if (1)
the company makes general statements about how it is ethical and nice, (2) it
does a bad thing, and (3) the stock drops. The plaintiffs’ theory is that the
general statements were lies, the company is not ethical or nice, the
shareholders were deceived into buying the stock, and they lost money when the
company’s badness was revealed and the stock dropped. The defendants’ theory
is, come on, you didn’t buy the stock because of our ethics policy, this is not
actually securities fraud.
This case is going to the Supreme Court because plaintiffs
have had a fair amount of success in bringing cases like this, but it’s not
universal:
In an opinion [Wednesday], Judge Wood dismissed a securities
fraud case against Papa John’s that arose from two articles in Forbes in 2018 (see
here and here), describing (among other things) an allegedly “toxic” culture of
workplace sexual harassment. The stock
price dropped after the articles were published, and the theory of the
complaint was that investors had been deceived by various public statements
portraying a different culture—such as the company Code of Ethics stating that
Papa John’s was governed by “principles of honesty, fairness, mutual respect,
trustworthiness, courage and personal and professional commitment.”
Judge Wood had dismissed an earlier version of the
complaint, and in yesterday’s opinion, concluded that the amended version still
failed to state a claim because the statements at issue were “vague, broad, and
merely aspirational.”
Things happen
The Rise and Fall of Bitcoin Billionaire Arthur Hayes.
Robinhood's Lucrative Options-Trading Platform Attracts Mounting Scrutiny.
Everything is securities fraud podcast. Credit Suisse Was Alerted to Private
Banker’s Misconduct Years Before Criminal Charges. The Lousy Tippers of the
Trump Administration. NBA Top Shot NFT Sales Surpasses CryptoKitties. Woman
named Hedges-Stocks goes viral on Twitter during GameStop frenzy. 81-person
French orgy broken up for violating
COVID-19 curfew.
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[1] Here’s a good Planet Money episode about it. My
description above is informed by a discussion I had with Mary Childs, one of
the hosts of that episode.
[2] The fees vary by exchange and various other details, but
they are capped by regulation at 30 “mils” (hundredths of a cent), or $0.0030
per share.
[3] “High-frequency trader” generally means a proprietary
trading firm that uses computers to trade really frequently. Internalizing is
one HFT function, but there are others (on-exchange HFT, futures and ETF
arbitrages, etc.). The big internalizers—who also generally have other HFT-y
businesses—are a subset of the business usually called “HFT.” But if you’re a
retail trader they’re the most salient subset.
[4] I think? That split comes from a Securities and Exchange
Commission order against Robinhood, which basically cites a secondhand rumor
about it: “At least one principal trading firm communicated to Robinhood that
large retail broker-dealers that receive payment for order flow typically
receive four times as much price improvement for customers than they do payment
for order flow for themselves—an 80/20 split of the value between price
improvement and payment for order flow.”
[5] I suppose if they could buy at the bid in the public
market (because they are a market maker and get hit on their bids) and sell to
you at (lower than) the offer then it would work. But that’s not really
front-running? That’s just … you’re getting the stock cheaper than the public
price anyway?
[6] Fourth, it’s not *Citadel*, the hedge fund, but *Citadel
Securities*, the market maker, a different though affiliated company. The
connection between the two led to a lot of conspiracy theorizing around GameStop,
because Citadel Securities executes a lot of retail trades (including for
Robinhood), while Citadel the hedge fund invested in Melvin Capital, the hedge
fund that got hit hard by shorting GameStop.
[7] Charles Schwab Corp. reported net interest revenue of
$6.1 billion for 2020, versus total expenses of $7.4 billion, so it could not
currently run profitably just on net interest income. But if you add asset
management fees—Schwab does a lot of asset management—you’re well into the
black. Interactive Brokers Group Inc. made more in net interest last quarter
than it paid in total expenses, though not for full-year 2020. TD Ameritrade
and E*Trade are no longer public companies—they were driven into mergers by,
basically, the zero-fee revolution—so it’s harder to get a full picture of the
industry than it used to be.
[8] I can’t really recount the GameStop saga here, but if
you for some reason are reading this in the future, maybe look, uh, here, here,
here, here, here, here, here, here or here. Here in the present, I assume
you’ve been following along.
[9] Institutions, of course, have their own off-exchange
trading venues, called “dark pools,” but that is a separate issue.
[10] Actually a Chamath Palihapitiya SPAC acquiring GameStop
would be the funniest possible ending but even less likely.
906.
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