" The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. Visiting? Dressed for it, certainly. Sheppard was committed to the earth. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. I took him out of the hands of death.
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