“Pleasantly so.”
“Did yo’ come bi ‘Th’ Sun.’”
I acknowledged that I had passed the doors of that hospitable inn.
“Rare ale at ‘Th’ Sun.’”
I agreed.
“Aw could sup a quart now, by gow I could.”
I fumbled in my breeches pocket and pulled forth a silver coin. The rogue’s eyes glistened.
“I don’t want a horse. I want to know in which of these houses I shall find Ephraim Sykes.”
“Yo’r noan after him, are yo’?”
“After him?”