"I might return the question. He felt the first sting of the whip. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. Ramage?” he asked. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style.
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