“Diedermayer’s a kiss-ass. 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. " As he spoke, a smile crossed Sheppard's countenance. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. “I wonder if it is.
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