Ruth obeyed, not willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the authoritative tone. Your face has flitted out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. ‘You and Jarvis Remenham both, yes.
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