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. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl called her that. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. In any event, I brought her to the convent and we had her locked up separately, and told ’em both they’d be taken into custody as soon as Valade was fit to go.
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