She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. As a matter of fact it isn’t their affair. But it was clear she was in no mood for Teddys. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. Groans and hoots were now raised by the crowd, and there was an evident disposition to rescue. Fiercely defensive, as usual. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. " Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall.
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