5. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. ‘That’s not much comfort. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. “This is all very well,” she said, “but two out of the three are rank deserters— and if the papers tell the truth the third is as bad.
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