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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. "Much that I would willingly forget. ‘That way. I somehow understood. We’re handfuls. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. The intensity of the eyes and the defiant tone bewildered the doctor, who found his well-constructed jeremiad without a platform. Ramage back his forty pounds. Heaven will not permit the continuance of such wickedness as you practise.
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