’ A reluctant laugh escaped him. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. ‘Alors, you make a game with me, I see that.
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