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

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