So he made his dispositions and went off on some other fool’s errand. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. 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. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. Show him no quarter, Poll. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. Fritz and Anna had been her wards for over two years! Sebastian stood in the corner, laughing silently at the fighting women.
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