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. Had he not said as much at Remenham House? She allowed him to march her through the chapel without resistance. The roofs and gables of many of the houses had been torn off. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint.
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