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Chapter 19

  • It was so quiet, he could hear the clock's hands moving, the only thing breaking the complete silence. Oliver was in his nightshirt, reading the book he'd taken from Tennyson's study. 
  • He'd never read Dickens before, but he was sure that wasn't the real reason why he couldn't really follow the narrative, the words and letters were only black spots on the white paper, making no sense, as his mind kept drifting to what had happened earlier today.
  • It was soon going to get cold with the fire in the fireplace dying out.
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