“I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. My father died a year ago, by the way. Loved his memory still, for all he knew. He turned to her and pinned her against the headrest with his kisses. Clean water. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. ” “I know—” said Ramage, with sympathy.
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