Where is your sense of patriotism?" I keep it hid away safe, along with my sense of trust, Mr. Clent. I don't use 'em much in case they get scratched.
Frances HardingeIt was hopeless. She was flawless. She was a sunbeam. Mosca gave up and got on with hating her.
Frances HardingeYouโre a peach full of poison, you know that?" Mosca snapped back, but could not quite keep a hint of admiration from her tone.
Frances HardingeI find it hard to believe that a lady like...โ Pertellis hesitated, and coughed. โThere is something elevated in the female spirit that will always hold a woman back from the coldest and most vicious forms of villainy.โ โNo, there isnโt,โ Miss Kitely said kindly but firmly, as she set a dish in his hand. โDrink your chocolate, Mr Pertellis.
Frances HardingeNo." Mosca bit her lip and shook her head firmly. Books no longer seemed quite enough. I donโt want a happy ending, I want more story.
Frances HardingeMosca said nothing. The word โdamselโ rankled with her. She suddenly thought of the clawed girl from the night before, jumping the filch on an icy street. Much the same age and build as Beamabeth, and far more beleaguered. What made a girl a โdamsel in distressโ? Were they not allowed claws? Mosca had a hunch that if all damsels had claws they would spend a lot less time โin distressโ.
Frances Hardinge