’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. Your mother arrived, and she knew me for what I was, she whispered to me curses against werewolves and vampires when I was alone in a room with her. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face.
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