The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. ‘I must. 'Mrs. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. He leaned forward, and looked into the eyes of the woman he loved, and it seemed to him that she sang back to him with a sudden note of something like passion breaking here and there through the gay mocking words which flowed with such effortless and seductive music from her lips. ‘Come,’ she called. One must get them with exactly the same intensity.
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