The inn was a military haunt. ‘Very wise,’ commented Gerald. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. When Captain Darrell's birth is ascertained, I've no doubt he'll turn out a nobleman's son. "Got the rooms mixed. ‘No more, Saling, no more,’ said Mrs Sindlesham in accents of exhaustion.
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