Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. " "I cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour. She was in deadly earnest in everything she did. 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. Wood, ironically; "but I used to think it required something more than mere words to prove that a person's character was abused.
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