Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. He was profoundly stirred. 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. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. “I’m not so sure. She whipped round suddenly, and discovered the woman wedged into the corner by the window, keeping out of the way. Right now my heart is occupied. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting.
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