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 some justice," replied Thornhill, drily. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps. .
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