You have spoken her name, I think, Marthe. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. It was impulsive and natural. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. ’ Melusine shook him off. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. 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. I want you beyond measure or reckoning. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. ‘Do not beg my pardon.
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