Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. “I would not have you go for anything,” she answered. I rather want them. His build was medium, he would never 5 tower over his peers, yet his shoulders were broadening, betrayed by an undeveloped set of pectoral muscles underneath his button-down shirt that she could tell frustrated him. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture.
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