“Ignorant woman!” he said, wheeling his horse carelessly so that a damp clod from the late rains flew up and struck me, splattering my skirt. “Are you saying I don’t know my profession?” He flicked the reins and would have been away had I not grasped the horse’s bridle. “Are lumps at the neck and rosy rings on the body not Plague tokens?” I cried. He pulled up sharply and looked me in the face for the first time. “Where have you seen these things?” he demanded. “On the body of my lodger, buried at last full-moon,” I replied. “And you bide near the Hadfields?” “The next door.” At this, he
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