Jeannette frowns. "Do not swear, Mr. Childermass," she scolds him lightly, but at least doesn't make a big production out of it. (This time.) "But thank you for reading it. I'm in your debt."

The illustrations, far from seeming crude to Jeannette, instead spark in her a longing for her angel - just those kinds of pictures were in the books her angel sometimes brought to read, on the hill overlooking Jeannette's village. Imagine that....holy wisdom incarnate and she still always sought to learn. How good, how wonderful, how bright her angel was. If only she were here for Jeannette to consult!