" Mr. ‘It is precisely that point over which Melusine and I fell out. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us. 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. If you do not find your aunt, my people will take you under wing until you can stand on your own.
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