Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. " "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. Nuns, I mean. “I must go. Playing became a way of escape.
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