They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. It’s obvious you have eyes for someone else. 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. ” His rhythm slowed to a grind.
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