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. no, not like that – she told me the password to her email account so I could see what she was chatting about – and less than eighteen months after the award of her M.Sc., she completed her thesis and prepared to defend it. Then ... she was Doctor Emma Jane Lumley-Barrett.Betty and I watched her in her mostly red gown collect her diploma from the Chancellor. Betty was proud, but pensive, thinking of Emma's father."I'm sure he's watching proudly," I said.She looked up at me and smiled a little mistily. "I hope so," she said, "he was always so ... well, you know, Dads and their daughters..."A couple of days later I got in from a seminar and Emma was already home, looking nervous."Um, Gerry..." Yes, Baby?" They want me at M.I.T."Truly, I have no problem with America ... I just don't want to live there. No particular reason except being used to free health-care, that sort of thing.I managed a smile. "That's great! A real compliment, I think!" Uh huh. The Prof here said he wanted me too,. The match began without warning. It started without the ringing of a bell, or the touching of gloves. Instead, it began when the burly challenger darted into range of her with a preternatural quickness and connected his glove with the side of her freckled, flush face. The next thing Brigitte was aware of was the sweat-stained boxing ring floor rushing up to her for an introduction of its own. The defeated Brigitte collided with the mat and settled there in a heap to the gasps of surprise from the menagerie of emboldened challengers and audience members alike.Brigitte had learned from her mentor that it was important to fight with honor, and to protect those who needed protecting. In her travels across the bandit-ridden countryside with Reinhardt Wilhelm, the grizzled knight-errant, she had watched a battle-scarred old man don his suit of armor on a moment’s notice – the armor she was charged with the upkeep of – to valiantly ride into towns overtaken by thugs and extortionists for the.
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