“Go on,” he said. “Pray accept my apologies. So while he talked to this girl of work and freedom, his slightly protuberant eyes were noting the gracious balance of her limbs and body across the gate, the fine lines of her chin and neck. “What did it matter?” she cried. Look at the cock’s feathers, look at the competition there is everywhere, except among humans. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette. "Do nothing without consulting my father—your father, Thames," she implored. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. “I remember when you walked me home. Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. I did think it could be done.
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