. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. 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. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness.
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