Go to her. 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 must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone. I am bored to distraction. None this end. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. This fall saved him, for the horsemen passed over him.
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