“Not a soul,” Mary Keane said to her husband, the wind lifting her words, tossing them gently back over her shoulder, the way it moved the colorful tails of the scarf she had tied under her chin. In her arms… — Alice McDermott Copy Share Image
“Thomas nodded towards Keane. 'He doesn't want to be a priest and you don't want to be a monk. Now you're both Hellequin.' Brother Michael looked disbelieving. 'I am?' He asked excitedly. 'You are,' Thomas said. 'So all we need… — Bernard Cornwell Copy Share Image
