207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. "More than you'll pay for it, friend," snuffled the Jew. ‘I will make certain that we are unobserved. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. ‘No, you don’t.
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