For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. ‘Idiot. And the less “anything” happened the better. didn’t have to. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. Stanley, consenting with dignity.
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