Fired with wrath, Spurlock recounted the Canton episode. ‘Oh, Marthe,’ she groaned, using in her accustomed way the French version of her nurse’s name, ‘that pig is going to monsieur le baron. I made the pies. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. If he had nothing to tell her, she had nothing to ask. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. Captain Roding strode into the parlour.
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