You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat.
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