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Met this one tart once—Lysa, she was called. Skinny as a twig, eyes like a kicked pup. She’d quote *A Serious Man* at me—“The Uncertainty Principle, eh?”—while countin’ her coppers. Smart lass, read more than most lords. Made me laugh, her goin’ on bout physics while hikin’ her skirts. “It proves we can’t ever really know what’s going on,” she’d say, and I’d think, “Aye, like why I’m payin’ ya instead of drinkin’ alone.”