‘They hold their nose up, so. 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. Wood, delighted at the idea. Until then we mean to keep on hammering away. ‘You make me talk, you make me talk. I sent my check for ten thousand; and it has cost me six thousand to find you. I’m convinced that much of Russell’s investigations are on wrong lines, unsound lines.
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