[Primrose Bolger]

Ginger could feel the heat creeping up her neck; soon she would be as red as her copper curls, or redder. She swallowed hard, trying not to stammer as she spoke. ‘Begging your pardon, m’am,’ she began, as her fingers slid the offered book back toward Bella. ‘But I . . . well . . . it’s just that . . .’

Bella looked over at her, a patient smile on her face. She had picked up the book, and held it lightly in her hands, looking as if she might hand it back to her. Ginger get hold of yourself! the young woman told herself sharply.

‘It’s like this, Miz Took,’ Ginger said, taking the book and opening it up to the picture she had first asked about. ‘I would like very much to read this book. And this Tuor looks to be very brave. Handsome almost as Big Folk go.’ She traced the winged helm, wondering about the new king who wore one. ‘And bless you for thinking I’d take good enough care of it that you would lend it to me. But the honest truth is I can’t read the words on the pages.’

Miz Bella’s eyes widened at this, but before she could make a comment, Ginger plunged on. ‘That is . . . I can write my name. And I can do numbers. I have to; sometimes my Da and brothers need help with the lists for the vegetables and pigs they’ve sold. And, oh, I can recognize most of the things we sell when they’re written. It’s a short list really, and I memorized them. But unless the words about Tuor are all sows and boars and taters and carrots and such, I can’t make heads or tails of them.’