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It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. ‘Oh, have you? Well, in that case, I love your little booted feet, and your ridiculously long eyelashes, and—’ THANK YOU! Thank you so much for downloading and reading my book. ’ ‘But you must want more. 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. Lucy wore it every day from then on. . .

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