I will endeavour. Hastily, he reached for the door. 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. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. He looked at his friend.
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