She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. No matter. She glanced at him. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. And through all these defences and into Old Palace Yard, into the very vitals of the defenders’ position, lumbered the unsuspected vans. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment.
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