Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. "You are my prisoner, Jack. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. Of course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were lyrics known the world over. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued.
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