‘You have no idea how dull the militia is compared to the Army. When she spoke, her lips twitched. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall.
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