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Glancing across at her partner, who was vainly attempting to hold the newspaper at slightly more than arm's length, Kathie sighed.

"Put the glasses on, Nance."

This suggestion was instantly shrugged off. "I don't really need them."

Kathie looked pointedly at the distance between Nancy's eyes and the newspaper. "No?"

"I don't." Nancy regarded the glasses with distaste. "There's nothing wrong with my eyes. I just need longer arms."

"Like an orangutan?"

Nancy looked at her other half reproachfully, and Kathie took advantage of the momentary distraction to twitch the newpaper out of her hands, holding it slightly farther away. "Does this help?"

"Actually, yes."

Dropping the newspaper onto the table, Kathie picked up the glasses and gently fitted them onto her partner, then stepped back to judge the effect. "They really suit you, Nance."

"I don't care. I'm still not wearing them."

This left Kathie completely at a loss; if it wasn't a question of appearance, what was the reason for Nancy's reluctance? Returning the newspaper to her partner, she tried another tack. "Well, don't they make it easier for you to read?"

"No."

Kathie's eyebrows shot up in blatant scepticism.

"Not much, anyway. Alright, maybe just a bit," Nancy reluctantly conceded, the paper now held at a comfortable distance. "But don't imagine for one second that I'm going to be caught wearing them in the staff room."

Enlightenment suddenly came to Kathie. "My love," she said, kissing away the frown that had been called into being by Nancy's efforts to focus unaided on the small print, "I know people made a song and dance about Hilda not needing glasses, but perfect eyesight is not some kind of moral victory. You can be just as effective a Headmistress wearing specs, you know."




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