She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. ‘You think so? Well, if that’s so, I know where she gets her impudence, Prudence Sindlesham. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. I'll think no more about her. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp.
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