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. The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy. "Was I out of my head?" "Yes. But I give you this warning, and let it sink in. “Please forgive me. However, I'll make a last effort to save the poor little creature, if it costs me my life.
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