And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. He saw now that it was merely a boy. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you. But I can give it its name now. You can trust me, Anna. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes.
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