Another bit of my ongoing eighteenth century novel. Coming soon; reviews on Pat Roger's 'Grub Street', Gulliver's Travels and stuff about Kit Smart and 'Jubilate Agno'
Sidney considered the problem of breaking into Mr Steele's Office. He thought about the layout of the building as he knew it, its position in the middle of the street, the possiblity of using tunnels or rooftops to enter. He considered the security that could well be guarding the building, of Gentleman Jack and his big mouth or of Nag Fisted Ned and his horseshoe fists, which caused him to considere all the diversions, distractions and red herrings he knew. He thought of all the castles he had stormed with his Mother's fancies, all the Roman military campaigns he had gone on with his Father's books. He thought tactics and strategy and probability. He considered it all, brewed it together with the yeast of his unfettered imagination and took a bite out of his stale bread as he did so. Finally, bread swallowed and plan formulated, he looked at Jemmy who had a look of expectant excitement and mild hunger that any dog owner would recognise.
'I have it. You pick the lock of the front door while I look out, then you pick the safe while I look out, then we run away.'
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