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. ‘—and I love your raven hair, and your bright blue eyes, and your very kissable lips—’ suiting the action to the words ‘—and I love the crazy way you speak English, and the way you curse at me. " "Never," echoed Smith, emphatically, "upon my honour. "Our talking will not bother him. ‘Alors, I see it. . For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality.
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