" "Nor Jonathan Wild, I hope," interposed Sheppard. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. He winced from the wasp-like sting. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice.
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