"She was mine before you ever saw her. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. He hesitated. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. " "I don't care if he is," rejoined Thames, boldly. “I do love you. Ramage.
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