Could he but manage it discreetly, he might assure his fortune with the Whigs and get to his feet at last.

God knew it was time, for the household in the Billingsgate attic was pretty threadbare.

His busy brain had worked happily on the plan.

He would be the innocent, cursed from childhood with undesired companions, who would suddenly awaken in horror to the guilt of things he had not understood.

There would be a welcome for a well-informed penitent....