‘And, yes, I know that I was hardly a convincing Angelo, but the scene is really about Isabella and, like any good actress, you made the most of it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘How do you feel?’

‘To be candid, I feel rather dizzy.’

‘That’s only to be expected.’

‘But I’m so grateful that you suggested reading that scene, Miss Granville. It took me into another world. I actually forgot the demons assailing me.’

‘You’ve learnt a good lesson,’ said Hannah. ‘At times of crisis, you can always turn to Shakespeare. I’ve done so myself on many occasions. He may not be able to solve our problems, but he can always take us to a place where they aren’t quite so oppressive. Remember that.’

Harry Scattergood was a strict teacher. He rehearsed Alan Kinnaird for a long time until he was convinced that his friend would be able to hold his own under questioning from the chief magistrate. As a reward, Scattergood took him into the nearby Golden Crown for a celebratory drink. Secure in their disguises as men of fashion, their behaviour enabled them to blend easily into the crowd. The two of them drifted into a quiet corner. Kinnaird winked at his friend.

‘We’d never have been able to do this in the old days, Harry.’

‘They wouldn’t have let us in through the door.’

‘We’ve moved up in society.’

‘To make your living off fine gentlemen, you have to look like one of them.’

‘Look, smell and sound.’

‘That’s right. All that practice we put in has paid off.’

‘Have you ever brought Welsh Mary here?’

‘I wouldn’t dare,’ said Scattergood with a grin. ‘I love her dearly but that accent of hers would give us away at once. Mary knows her place and that’s beside, beneath or on top of me.’

‘Does she know about our plan?’

‘It’s best to keep her in the dark about such things, Alan.’

‘What if things go wrong?’

‘They won’t.’

‘Welsh Mary will be left high and dry.’

‘Don’t even think such a thing. My plan is foolproof. Now that you’ve been properly rehearsed, we can choose our moment to strike.’

‘You’re a genius, Harry.’

‘Giles, if you please,’ corrected the other. ‘Giles Clearwater.’

‘Where on earth did you get a name like that?’

‘It was quite by chance, as it happens. I think it suits me.’

‘Well, I’m glad that I made your acquaintance,’ said Kinnaird, raising his glass. ‘I drink to you, Mr Clearwater.’

‘And I drink to our success.’

The two of them enjoyed a first sip of their wine. Scattergood was brimming with confidence. He didn’t notice the old man seated alone nearby and staring at him with great interest. Simeon Howlett’s memory was starting to function again.