She tried not to blush. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. She succumbed to cancer of the breast at age forty-three, it was slow and wasting. You’re dogmatic. ‘You have not the right. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword.
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