Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. I worshipped her and subdued myself. ’ ‘Useful certainly. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. This young man did not drink because he sought the false happiness that lured men to the bottle. Les Misérables, A Tale of Two Cities, Henry Esmond, The Last Days of Pompeii, The Marble Faun … Love stories! Until her arrival in Singapore, she had never read a novel.
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