“What year was 221 that, about 1350?” He asked in wonderment. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. “These are the times that would make me glad to live forever, if only they lasted. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door.
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