She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden.
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