It was in the spirit of missing home that Jane did sit down at a table in the strange room in which she had appeared. She had neither a quill, nor any parchment -- and hardly wax to seal a letter -- but she felt as though she must send something home, even if all the words were composed in her mind.
Dear Mary, she would have written, for Mary
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She turned her attention back to things of man and not nature. "Tell me more about Mr. Ford," Jane encouraged, eyes bright and beaming.
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