Lottie had been prepared to offer sage wisdom of motherhood, to pass down knowledge and experience to the next generation to use how they wished. Rather she remained silent, in an effort to soothe all the feelings that sudden bubbled up. The protective instincts of a thousand millennia were ignited in a flash of emotion. It was mostly rage at that fool and his tool. If she had where he was in the moment, she would have castrated him. Yet Lottie was also saddened and fearful for the road Ruth had now walk.

"Well, he's a feckin' bastard." She said a calm voice, "I hope he dies in a empty cot with sores on his lips and pus on his penis." She continued vulgarly, yet with same light, airey, tone she might use if genteel company came for tea.