“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. The wine was sweetened with cinnamon and cloves and rare edible flowers, which her father had instructed her not to drink excessively of. He drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down, terrified by the utter fallowness of his mind. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark. Brendon.
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