She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. She kissed Lucia’s cheeks and patted her growing belly upon rising, to which her new husband disapproved, but Lucia loved the attention and adoration. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. "I've the Bridewell account to settle. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. 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. You’ve got to take what you can get.
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