Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. I told you that at the outset. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. 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. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money.
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