" "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. Even in death, Vorsack was not a man. “I expect it is pretty well in shreds by now. S. 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.
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