Even though she hated him, Stephanie felt sorry for the boy because what he said was true. Rich people thought poor people were inferior to them and often abused them. She had seen it firsthand on the streets of London. One child had been beaten senseless for begging for a couple of coins and the toffs who had done it laughed and joked about him while he was lying on the side of the road bleeding. All people were equal, whether they had money or not. Except that women were better than men.

Down she went, trying her best to free herself. She had obviously underestimated him, for though he might be shorter than her and probably younger, he was quite a bit stronger. Her hitting, kicking, and biting seemed to have little effect. And then he grabbed some of her hair and threatened to pull it out. Stephanie was proud of her long honey-colored mane and didn’t want to lose even a strand of it.

She immediately fell still. “Leave my hair alone! Let it go and we’ll call it even.”