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. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. Guns were impossible. I have been waiting a long time for a family like them. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him.
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