" "Mr. 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. . " "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. ” She looked at him doubtfully. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. " And, followed by Abraham, he rushed out of the room.
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