One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. . 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 this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. It is my business to know most people. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly.
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