Panic leapt into his eyes as he brought his wrist up just in time to parry the blade. He backed away from her. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. Little did he know that she had begged her parents as a youngster to get her a language tutor. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. ‘I’ll handle her better alone. Plain, wide-mouthed, freckled, and ugly, she was an instantly jealous creature, her saving grace that she took no pains to mask her extreme dislike 47 of petite, pretty girls. "I likes to hear vot you says. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss.
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