" The clock tinkled ten. More importantly, she had her wits. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. They drove rapidly through the emptying streets. The young man did not know what he was doing or where he was. ‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer.
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