’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. That would be him. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. Anyhow, they didn’t run about so much. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders.
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