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　CHAPTER 16
　"Fetch! Here, Boy! Fetch!"
　Usually, when Master Drummond called him UGGS Clearance by that name, Fitch knew he blushed with humiliation, but this time he was in such anguish over what he had seen upstairs earlier that he hardly felt any shame over so petty a thing. Master Drummond's talking down to him as if he were dirt could not match Beata's hating him, and hitting him.
　It had been a couple of hours, but his face still throbbed where, she'd clouted him, so he was clear on that much of it: she hated him. It confused and UGG boots clearance confounded him, but he was sure she hated him. It seemed to him she should be angry at someone, anyone, besides him.
　Angry at herself, maybe, for going up there in the first place. But he guessed she couldn't very well have refused to go see the Minister if he asked for her. Then Inger the butcher would have thrown her out when the Minister told him that his Haken girl refused to go up to take his special request. No, she couldn't very well have Jordan Heels done that.
　Besides, she wanted to meet the man. She'd told him she did. Fitch knew, though, that she never expected he would have his way with her. Maybe it wasn't the Minister she was so distraught about. Fitch remembered that man, Stein, winking at him. She was up there a long time.
　That was still no reason for her to hate Fitch. Or to hit him.
　Fitch came to a halt. His fingers throbbed from having them in scalding water for so long, scrubbing and scraping. The UGG boots clearance rest of him felt sick and numb. Except, of course, his face.
　"Yes, sir?"
　Master Drummond opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it and instead leaned down. He frowned.
　"What happened to your face?"
　"One of the billets of apple slipped and hit me as I picked up an armload, sir."
　Master Drummond shook his head as he wiped his hands
　on his white towel. "Idiot," he muttered. "Only an idiot,"
　he said, in a voice loud enough so others could hear, "would hit himself in the face with a UGG Boots Clearance stick of wood as he picked it up."
　"Yes, sir."
　Master Drummond was just about to speak when Dalton Campbell, studying a well-used piece of paper covered with messy lines of writing, glided up beside Fitch. He had a whole stack of disheveled papers, their curled and crumpled edges protruding every which way. He followed down the writing with one finger as he nested the papers in the crook of his other arm.