We already had a place to mislay blame. ‘I don’t think he deserved that, Melusine. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. I am Jonathan Wild. She felt a semi-sharp object being gently impressed into her back.
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