C8 EIGHT
Man Delights Not Me
DRAKE
Man delights not me. No, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
— William Shakespeare, Hamlet
FATHER PATRICK PULLED out a thick book filled with velum-like cream paper that seemed ancient. It was bound in carved brown leather inlaid with gold and handwritten with a quill pen and black ink. At least, I imagined it had been a quill pen