Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. "I know not—and care not," replied Jack. ’ Chapter Nine As she devoured the simple meal of bread and cheese, and several slices of cold roast beef, the whole washed down with a poor sort of coffee, Melusine listened with avid interest to the details of her mother’s life as revealed by the exclamatory conversation of Joan Ibstock. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him.
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