When he came into the kitchen, Jack was reading the newspaper over her second cup of coffee.

"Did you know that Jack read his love poetry about a person in the audience?"

Jack was reading to her about the child's encounter with the desert fox when he stopped.

Jack read the panic in his friend's voice and eyes.

She didn't say a word, but Jack could read her expression.

But surely, Jack, you must have read all this.

Inside was a single typewritten sheet of paper which Jack took out and read.

Jack could read the jury well enough to know that it was time to sit down.

Jack hadn't read any of them, but this didn't seem the time to admit to it.

Sometimes Jack read poetry to him, or told him tales about the war.