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. It was not a difficult affair. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. ’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. "I came to see Jack Sheppard, and I won't go till you point him out to me. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had.
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