“I do not know you,” she said coldly. 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. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat. “For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. But it was under false names, so I dare say it ain’t valid. ’ ‘Emile Gosse,’ Melusine said flatly, in the same language. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night.
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