She sighed, "I would be grateful. It seems that men still cannot see women as intelligent human beings yet... pardon me saying that, and I don't find you among those who treat us with ill intent... But most are not willing to admit that life would be easier if they let women have more freedom." She sniffed. Without question, the girl ate heartily, displaying the appetite of a mother-to-be. It wasn't until she'd already plowed through half of what was on the plate that she froze. Why was he buying food and drink for her? She eyed him suspiciously.

Unable to resist licking the morsel that stuck to her lip instead of using a napkin, she gently set her fork down, her own face reddened slightly. With as much dignity as she could muster, she said, "You must think me without manners. But... then again, I don't know you, Mister Harwell. Is it a good idea for me to be in a public house with you this way?" Then she bit her lip and thought for a moment, remembering then that she had burst into a brothel, this was far from that kind of scandal... this was tame. Her eyes danced with laughter at the memory of the story written about her. She took up her fork, waggled her head back and forth a little and muttered, "I shouldn't care what people think anymore. They cannot think any worse than they already do. Hmph." She then retrieved the fork and stabbed it firmly into a potato.