" Ruth brushed her eyes with one hand and with the other signed for the spinster to stop. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. Of course I knew all about him years ago, and he is exactly like everybody’s description of him. She always dawdled, so it was easy. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. Eventually this comradeship (slightly resented by Rollo) reached a point where he could call out from the study: "Hey, Ruth!—come and tell me what you think of this. She saw his eyes glaze over. I presume that you have been living alone?” She sighed gently.
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