She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. We fixed that. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Sheppard, he turned to quit the churchyard. "Choose, Jack. "I give it to King James—not so you: for the furtherance of a great and holy cause, not for the prosecution of wild and unprofitable schemes.
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