“I do not know how I will manage without you.” “I ask myself the same thing. I do not want to leave you. I cannot leave you. But if I stay, I die here.” “No. You must not stay. You will not stay. Jem. Promise you will go. Go and be a Silent Brother, and live. I would tell you I hated you if I thought you would believe me, if it would make you go. I want you to live. Even if it means I shall never see you again.” “You will see me,” he said quietly, raising his head. “In fact, there is a chance—only a chance, but—” “But what?” He paused—hesitated, and seemed to make his mind up about something.
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