“Watch my lantern. I’ll be right back. Don’t chase away any customers. And if you suck anyone off in the alley, it’s three shillings, and I get half.”

“A fair offer from a lady most fair,” said I.

She winked, set her lantern on the step, then pirouetted, and off she went through the inner double doors, deeply touched by my charm. As I used to tell Drool, “Treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore and even a great stumbling dolt like yourself shall sail on the slippery seas of passion.”

“So you can shag ’em in a boat, right, Pocket?” asked the oaf.

“Yes, it will work in a boat as well,” said I, patient teacher to hopeful student.

“But not up the bum?” asked Drool.

“No, not up the bum, never up the bum, you great horse-cocked ninny. You could kill someone with that thing. Never up the bum!”

“Sor-ry,” said he. Then, “Never up the bum!” he mimicked in my very own voice, a habit which I discouraged by batting him about his great empty noggin with my puppet stick.

After what seemed like a long enough time, I tucked my yellow hat into my coat, picked up the whore’s lantern, and followed her path through the doors of the brothel, where a large arm, attached to a large sturdy ruffian, blocked my way.

“She forgot her lantern,” said I, bobbing the lantern. “Uh, she—”

“Charity,” the ruffian provided.

“Charity? Really? That’s a salty sluice of shark wank,” said I with incredulity.

“Charity’s working the door tonight,” said the ruffian.

“Yes, Charity,” said I. “That’s what I meant. She’s asked me to bring in her lantern.”

“Go then,” said the ruffian, obviously chosen more for his size than his interrogatory skills. Where had the rubbish ruffian guards been when I was slinging intrigue in court and castle?