There must be ways of getting rid of him. A conviction that her sister’s words were true had from the first possessed her. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. " "Come along, master," said the waterman. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. Go in, go in, Melusine prayed, hoping desperately that he would not change his mind and take another route. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. "Whose house do you want, master?" said the man, touching his hat.
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