Gerald frowned. \"Hardwood floors. Her little white hand stole across the table. ” Meddoes turned round from the table on which he was practising shots and shrugged his shoulders. Miraculously, her schoolmates were so upswept in their own summer planning that they had no time to interrogate her. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. 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.
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