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” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were. 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. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to leave with Michelle’s. Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice. She was very pretty. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. If only this child were his: what good times they would have together! The thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart.
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