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. ” Brendon was not inclined to be led away from the point. ” So that was it! “He came and talked to me. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. Blueskin will go with you,—for fear of a mistake.
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