"Caught!" shouted the head-turnkey. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. ’ She inclined her head, looking up at him through her lashes, and passing a tongue lightly over her lips. More than ever a sense of confusion was upon Ennison. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. “Why not?” he exclaimed. The nuns, they were very good with a whip.
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