trouble, but she's not that sort."

"If she isn't, all I can say is that St. Giles and Drury Lane are the
places where innocent and unsuspecting maids are to be found. Ask Sally
Salisbury."

"Damn Sally Salisbury," cried the fine gentleman in a fury. "D'ye think
I don't know gold from dross? I'll take my oath no man had touched the
lips of that coy little wench before mine did."

"By all means keep to that belief, sir. It won't do you no harm. Now if
you'll take my advice you'll let me drive you to Moll King's and you'll
finish the night like a man of mettle and a gentleman."

Dorrimore was in a morose and sullen mood. He wanted bracing up and he
adopted Rofflash's suggestion. The coach rattled to Mrs. King's
notorious tavern in Covent Garden, where thieves and scoundrels, the
very dregs of London, mingled with their betters; and amid a bestial
uproar, with the assistance of claret and Burgundy, to say nothing of
port "laced" with brandy on the one hand, and gin and porter on the
other, all differences in stations were forgotten and gentlemen and
footpads were on a level--dead drunk.

CHAPTER VI

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER

A London night in the first quarter of the eighteenth century had very
little rest. Until long past midnight a noisy, lawless, drunken rabble
made the streets hideous. It was quite three o'clock, when as
physiologists tell us the vital forces are at their lowest, before it
could be said that the city was asleep. And that sleep did not last
long. Soon the creaking of market cart and waggon wheels, the shouts of
drovers and waggoners, tramping horses, bellowing cattle and bleating
sheep would dispel the stillness and proclaim the beginning of another
day.

Business in the approaches to the markets was in full swing before four
o'clock. Carters and waggoners were thirsty and hungry souls and the
eating houses and saloop stalls were thronged. The Old Bailey, from its
nearness to Smithfield was crowded, and the buxom proprietress of
Fenton's coffee house was hard put to it to serve her clamorous
customers and to see that she wasn't cheated or robbed.

Mrs. Fenton had improved in appearance as well as in circumstances since
she had come from Bedfordbury to the Old Bailey. She was a good-looking
woman of the fleshly type, with a bosom such as Rowlandson loved to
depict. She was high coloured, her eyes were deep blue, full and without
a trace of softness. Her lips were red and well shaped, her t