His most intimate keepsake was one that could not be lost or stolen, though. He flexed his left hand, where the thin white line of the letter "C"-carved a little crookedly, but still perfectly legible-showed on the mound at the base of his thumb. The "J" he had left on her would be likewise still visible, he supposed. He hoped.
( Diana Gabaldon )
[ The Scottish Prisoner ]
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