. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. She was honest again. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. ‘I did not think so. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. She pulled, he rose to his feet.
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