I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn.
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