9. “Hey you,” he said affectionately. 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. ‘At last,’ he cried, ‘I have found you!’ He would listen to nothing. Submission to the inevitable carried her through the circumstances of her appearance before the magistrate. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. He had scarcely entered the arch, when the indraught was so violent, and the noise of the wind so dreadful and astounding, that he almost determined to relinquish the undertaking. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. And of course! She had a brilliant idea.
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