CHAPTER XXIV. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. My name is Annabel, not Anna. ” She replied. ” She covered her face with her hands. 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. You won't often see white folks.
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