“Well?”

“Harry is at the dance. If he should recognize me?”

“He won’t.”

She chuckled. There was a brooding mischief in the tone that set him tingling.

“Are you sure?”

“Did the people recognize Cinderella at the ball?”

“And if there should be trouble because I’m recognized?”

“This fairy godmother wears a six-gun.”

They were silent a moment.

“How far is it to Bridewell?” he asked at last.