Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. It’s to do with adolescence. I've sent for the priest. I even offered him back the half interest he had sold to me. "Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure. "But clear the room of this rabble, if you have sufficient authority over them. To my loving husband Rodney, who is truly a dream come true.
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