” “And what are you doing here?” the lady asked. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just.
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