"At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. He built her the most beautiful castle 242 in the world in the desert, carving fountains where real water ran and gardens in a place where no plant had ever bloomed.
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