How old are you?” She asked. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. After all, she only LOOKED a woman.
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