”“Me,” she responded.“Excuse me?” Jill said, somewhat startled, genuinely unsure she’d actually heard what she’d thought.“I’m sellin... me. Or my time anyway. We have this fundraising thing called Rent-a-Swimmer where we go around selling our time doing chores and stuff for folks so we can earn our dues. Usually it’s like yard work, or cleaning out garages or whatever, for $20 an hour or $75 for half a day. We’re just getting people to signup today, then we come back later when they want. ?Who are YOU and what are you here? for she commanded, trying to sound in control but her voice quavered slightly. ?I'm no peasant, I'm Marcus, the miller's son. My father owes money to the estate and will soon repay it, then I'll be released?. ?Peasant!? Annette again spat into his face, shaken and terrified at her own predicament - she couldn't help taking out her fury and indignation on the only person she could. She felt round the rest of wall of her small prison then sank to the. More

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