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. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his. Montressor’s guests were. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. " "Or Jack have escaped," remarked Winny. Poor Ben was not so fortunate.
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