There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. "You read it, Ruth. "You can't go to sea with a book of rules. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. I must have this beast brought to London with me, that is seen. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began to practise on it in the night.
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