Then a surge of rage welled up. The bridge was open. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then.
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