‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. ” “Why not?” “Free woman—and equal. Kneebone," she added, drawing up her magnificent figure to its full height, and making the heavy cudgel whistle through the air, "look to yourself. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I.
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