" "So it is, child. ” “I’ll pay you if I have to work at shirt-making at threepence an hour. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. And I want you for myself—for my wife. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. 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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