I believe so because the 220 stories say his head was cut off by a tribe of witches and yet it still remained alive for many years after his decapitation. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. The Wastrel did not relish this. "Eggs for me! You mistake, child. The note-passer lagged behind with her. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. That is so awful. “I want to be your friend,” he said.
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