Sublime

fancy,

wherewithal

The oldest among them, the humble elder, a tall, stooped man worn fine as a clean, well-used rag by his years of service, so that the mildness of his temperament shone through all his looks and gestures,

obfuscation.

“Ravenel, what can I do?” he asked calmly. “With respect, sir”—Mr. Ravenel was double-dodging and darting, trying to anticipate the bull’s movements—“get the hell out of here.”

years?” To keep her reaction blank, Leah

Yomen-Ostlin

unremitting