Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go beyond her depth because of the sharks. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ’ ‘But it is stupide. ” “Why did you tell me? I thought—I thought we were going to be friends. It's fortunate we've no more Jack Sheppards, or I should stand but a poor chance.
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