“It was not as easy as that,” Richard explained. “Hatchard himself refused to tell me anything. In fact I thought that he was delighted to hear that people were interested in the identity of The Person of Quality.”

“‘The book is selling well, Mr. Rowlands’, he said, ‘so, as far as I am concerned, the more curious everyone is as to the identity of the author the better!’

“I argued with him, but he would not listen and, having talked to one or two of the people I knew in the shop, I walked back into Piccadilly.”

Richard paused to make sure that he held the Earl’s attention and then continued,

“I had only proceeded a few paces towards St. James’s Street when a man sidled up to me and said,

“‘I heard you talking to Mr. Hatchard, sir, and saying you wanted to know who wrote the book called Gentlemen.’

“‘You mean you know who it is?” I asked in surprise.

“Then I saw he was in his shirtsleeves and wearing a large Holland apron and I guessed that he was a packer, or something of that sort, from the shop.

“‘Are you prepared to tell me what I want to know?’ I asked.

“‘Times be hard, sir, and I’ve a sickly wife and three children’.”

“So he was ready to sell the information,” the Earl remarked.

“I hesitated as to whether I should tell him that he should be loyal to his employer or pay him to find out what I wanted to know.”

“I need not ask the choice you made.”

“I must admit that I was too curious to resist the temptation. It cost me two guineas, but I think it was well worth it.”

“What did he say?” the Earl enquired.

“He told me that The Person of Quality was a woman and he had seen her when she had brought the manuscript to Mr. Hatchard.

“‘A pretty piece, she were, sir,’ he said, ‘all dressed in grey and I hears the Guv’nor call her ‘Miss Carver’.”

The Earl had already stiffened when Richard had mentioned what Thalia was wearing. Now he stared at his friend incredulously before he asked,

“You are quite certain that is what the man said?”

“Quite!” Richard replied. “In fact I made him repeat it.”

“I cannot believe it!” the Earl said beneath his breath.

He walked across the room to the grog tray and poured himself a drink.

“I thought you would be surprised that it was a woman,” Richard said, “but I wonder who she can be and how she can know so much about men. I would have been prepared to wager a hundred pounds, if I had it, that every word had been written by a man and a gentleman at that!”

The Earl did not reply. He still had his back to his friend and appeared to be busy.

Then he turned to say,