He looked just as Julian had the night she had first met him outside the Joliet Laundromat. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. But that did not stop Trodger, who had ridden up from Kent for the purpose, from detailing every little inspection and sortie that his men had made in their allotted task of watching Remenham House. Hilary Roding was all soldier now, his earlier grievances laid aside. The stranger concluded he could not be far from his destination, and a turn in the road showed him the house. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin.
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