And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me.
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