She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. "Yes, Auntie! And to date you have cost me precisely sixteen thousand dollars— hard earned, every one of them. Sheppard. Upon reading the name, the doctor's eyebrows went up.
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