He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. Ramage controlled his expression and thought very quickly. You are the High Priestess of Life. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for you, the whole song is for you.
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