‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. I want to hear how she does it. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. “Nice sleeve,” she said, and came to his hand and kissed it. Shoplatch. The mighty concourse became for a moment still.
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