“This must end,” the Lord Mayor said. “If you cannot control your wicked daughter, whichever one she may be, we shall ship them both off to a convent. Let the sisters beat the devil out of them.”
“Very well,” the shoemaker said. “Give me one more day.”
The Lord Mayor agreed, and the men dispersed.
That night, the shoemaker stole into his daughters’ room as they slept. In one hand he held a sheepskin rag. In the other, he carried two shallow bowls whose contents were indistinguishable in the darkness. His daughters lay side by side on their stomachs, their faces turned toward one another. Each wore a brief white shift with nothing on underneath, and it was but the work of a moment to dip the rag into a bowl and apply it to a bare fundament.
The next day, it seemed, the town had given up the hunt for the naked gamine. The women kept their houses, the men plied their trades, the children played in the lanes, all as usual, until, toward evening, the raven-haired girl appeared beside the fountain in sackcloth, as she had the day before. Once more, she flung her rough covering to the ground and set off in the altogether — this time at a brisk trot.
Post some of Gwen c content
Yes
Nice story. A little bit hard to read for me as non-native english speaker, but I enjoyed it.
Were they underage ?