“There was no sign of Gifford; nor, to his chagrin, was there any word from the man for the rest of the day. Moreover, rain had arrived in the night and did not let up for some hours. By late afternoon, having made a few purchases in the sodden streets, Marbeck’s patience was gone. Buckling on his sword, he was preparing to go out when the door flew open and his fellow intelligencer stalked in. ‘So you’ve returned,’ Gifford observed. ‘I hope you had a pleasant night – or at least a profitable on...e. For my part, I was busy with matters of state.’ ‘Of course you were,’ Marbeck retorted. ‘Perish the thought that you might have run into one of your drabs and made a night of it – and a day of it too, come to that.’ ‘You wrong me, sir.’ With a smile, the other threw himself on to a bed, which creaked alarmingly. ‘I did spend time with an acquaintance, but to our purpose. In short, I was at a house in Everades Well Street that overlooks the windmill where I laid our missive last night.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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