"What do we have here?" Shelley put on his gold-rimmed glasses and started leafing through my notes.
"Well, I'm typing up some old notes from my novel A Raven for a Lark. I'm thinking of revising it."
"I haven't read that one yet," he said, scanning my outline with interest. "What's it about? Let me guess. Romance, plantations, scandal. And a duel."
"No, there's no duel, but there's a scoundrel."
Shelley looked up with interest. "Tell me more."
"His name's Hennessy. That's right. It was what I was going to name you. However, I decided against it, because I didn't want to associate you with a specific fictional character. Well, at the end of the story, Hennessy kidnaps Jenny and carries her to her childhood home. He sets it on fire, but Jenny escapes. Hennessy dies in the end."
"Or so it seems, right?" Shelley's green eyes peered at me over his gold lenses.
"Exactly. " I smiled with amusement. "Will you continue holding my pages down while I type? The wind is picking up."
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