The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked frenetically from class to class. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me. "You're in danger.
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