Her own flower-like face was an equal attraction to the potman.
The ale jars were refilled, pipes and tobacco were brought in, and the weaver relinquished his office of potman to his daughter.
"Up," she demanded, when the potman returned, carrying a mug of milk and a very large scone.
Once the house was shut, and the potman gone, no more was needed than to see the next police patrol go by, and the thing was done.
