Or shall I ask Colonel Anson for a few hints?” “For Heaven’s sake no,” she declared. Ousted from his old retreat, the Cross Shovels, Baptist Kettleby opened another tavern, conducted upon the same plan as the former, which he denominated the Seven Cities of Refuge. I tried. She knew now that he never would. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. “I rue the day I ever met you, Sebastianus.
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