She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. “I have a letter for you, and no end of messages. ’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. I’m glad I did. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light.
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