It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. ‘Yes, tell us everything at once,’ instructed Lucilla, pushing him towards the sofa she had vacated, and obliging him to sit beside her. 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. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived. She looked around her.
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