Wood. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. Mrs Sindlesham occupied a large padded armchair to one side of a corner fireplace, which gave out a heat more than adequate for September to one of the major’s robust constitution. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. She must weigh her situation. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied.
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