” She looked into her glass. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. " "Heaven help her!" sighed Jack. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up.
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