Chapter 24Lucy had liked Curland and Webber. They weren’t what she’d expected friends of Sylvia’s to be like, but thinking about it, that Sylvia counted farmers and farm workers among her friends was no surprise at all.
The books they had been loaned were old. One was probably from the eighteenth century and the green one seemed like it might be even older. That was the one written in all sorts of different hands and languages. Lucy was fascinated by it.
“Look,” Sylvia said, poring over the book in her lap that evening. “Is this Burmese?”
She perched her glasses on her nose more firmly as Lucy looked over her shoulder. “Perhaps?” Lucy said doubtfully. She had no idea.
“I wonder if I could find someone to translate it?” Sylvia said vaguely. “There’s a Burmese doctor at the School for Tr
