“Jermyn Street,” he said.
The driver leaned over and pointed to the Daily Chronicle window. “What’s the news?” he asked.
“The plague’s in Dundee and Edinburgh,” said Gurney, and climbed into the cab and slammed the door.
“Gawd!” muttered the driver, as he drove recklessly westwards.
Sitting in the cab, finding some comfort in the feeling of headlong speed, Gurney was debating whether he would not charter the man to take him right out of London. But he must go home first for money.
At the door of the house in Jermyn Street he met Jasper Thrale.
2
“Have you heard?” asked Gurney excitedly.
“No. What?” said Thrale, without interest.