He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. ‘Come along. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. Peste, she had forgot the sword. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night.
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