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. ” “I can’t go back to the Beck’s ever again. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. At the same time, I must say that I am most anxious to improve my acquaintance with her. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door.
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