“You will not object,” he said, glancing towards her, “to accepting a deposit. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. He glanced up at the coachman. ‘Come, cry a truce. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips.
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