He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. Her two new friends did their best to entertain her. "My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance. We shall have a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. "You've given him a broken head, I perceive. Please to release me.
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