Chapter 2Away from the hubbub, Gregory passed the great shadow of St. Paul’s Cathedral, a haunt of cutpurses and cony-catchers, seemingly amiable and honest gentlemen who preyed on the unwary, especially those wide-eyed country-dwellers arrayed in their distinctive homespun russet.
Gregory was no mark or gull. He neither guilelessly displayed nor nervously clutched his purse. His livery as a serving man made him unremarkable and, added to that, his clothes marked him as a Londoner and one without wealth, so the eyes of would-be cozeners slid away from him uninterestedly to latch on to more profitable prospects.
Similarly, he ignored the colourful taunts of the whores, or Winchester Geese, as they were known locally. However persuasively they advertised the goods with honeyed words, displ
