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. It’s John. ‘You were right, miss. He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. I’d come back from the ends of the earth. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. All her life Martha had been there. Rhea became alarmed that she was about to leave. E. 216 “Please, get dressed. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs.
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