"You are an Outcast," she said, not bothering to hide her ancestral hatred. "Peddlers of the filthy orange poison. I've killed many of you in my time, and I may just kill another today... of course, I am first required to ask you questions." She didn't seem happy with this. "First question. How do you expect to support yourself? We don't hand out Cardamine-" she spat this word - "on street corners."