But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. 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. “Your friend, “DAVID COURTLAW. She must not tell Martha about Gerald. Don’t stand gawping, man.
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