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. At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate; it permeated everything, taste and smell. The girls had such freedom, a wonderful chance afforded to them to go out in the wide world before making babies, it was nothing like the world she had come of age in. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. “Last time I saw you,” he reminded her, “you spoke, did you not, of obtaining some employment in London. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her.
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