Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. It was a sovereign easily earned. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. “But your hair,” he gasped. You need only answer me truthfully and you have nothing to fear. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. ’ Kimble nodded. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. I was being stupid.
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