" Prudence felt the hands stiffen oddly; and again the thought came to her that perhaps this poor child's father had once been, perhaps still was, in the same category as this Taber. . ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. "Not as I loved mine. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
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