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 had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. "A little. “Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. His science was a shared secret between them and she felt special to be trusted with them. "Teach you to keep your distance!" retorted Mrs.
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