They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. good at that. But I shall take care of Ruth, work for her and fight for her. Dead or alive, I'll have him. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me.
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