But go on. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. ’ ‘She is no longer a mystery,’ Gerald said. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his demeanour except that he endeavoured to abstract himself from the surrounding scene, and bend his attention to the prayers which the ordinary was reciting. 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.
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