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He had long since decided to save himself for marriage to Olivia. He still considered himself to be in mourning, but had begun to think his abstinence might now be pointless. One-Finger Finlay had recruited a young whore—“no older than fourteen, so she claims”—who was due to arrive in Riddle within the month. Judged solely on One-Finger’s second-hand description, Duff felt she might be a good woman for him, though Olivia would always hold a special place in his heart.
Rose set The Call of the Nightfall King atop The Farmer’s Grimoire on her small stack of books, and ran her fingers over their spines, their textured leather covers firm to the touch, promising wonder within. She picked up Dombey and Son and flipped past the frontispiece of a fat man with a hook for a hand, who was directing a young boy’s studies. For perhaps the hundredth time, she read the first sentence:
