The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. I almost wish we hadn't come. . “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. 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.
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