And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth. Katy oozed money from every pore of her being. He had forgiven everybody. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. A young man turned to pay the cabman. It was locked.
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