Is Mr Wines unwell? It shambles away from a knot of fiddle-players rather unsteadily. It leans on two Special Constables for support. 'There you are! The doughty supplier of Bacchus' delights! Come, no doubt, to settle the night's account. Well, we appear to have left our wallet in our other cloak.' The Special Constables chuckle. You attempt to raise a smile.

'But no matter! You shall be more than repaid by salvaging the detritus of the evening. Help yourself to anything left by lovers and drunks. Here's to you, bold merchant of pleasure!' It shuffles off towards a carriage surrounded by neddy men.

The cheapskate! It could buy and sell you a hundred times over, but can't be bothered to pay the bill! But wait. There's some good stuff lying around. Forgotten jewellery. Discarded attire. And napkins with some intriguing things written on them. Perhaps this wasn't such a loss.