Vorsack would just have to live with it. His grey eyes burned under his shaggy eyebrows. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. No, don’t let me call myself that. He had died before they married, and when her brother became a widower she had come to his assistance and taken over much of the care of his youngest daughter.
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