So what are you going to tell her? A little help? I pleaded. What does she want to know? He shook his head, grinning wickedly. That’s not fair. No, you not sharing what you know-now that’s not fair.
My life was an unending, unchanging midnight. It must, by necessity, always be midnight for me. So how was it possible that the sun was rising now, in the middle of my midnight?
It was a strange combination to absorb – the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century London.
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