Least it ain 't a "cock and hen" club, Lewrie thought, most pleasantly stuffed and "whiffled" by then; I'm in enough trouble.

For a time, it had seemed as if one of those shadier establishments might feature in the afternoon and night's activities, as he and his father had made the rounds. First had come a gentlemanly tavern, near Sir Hugo's old haunts in St. James's Square for a few badly needed stiff ones, followed by a saunter east to the theatre district for a lively farce, which was followed by a patriotic display in honour of Admiral Duncan and the Battle of Camperdown-with offers of gallons of free drink from fellow theatre patrons near their box, and Sir Hugo gallantly stroking the mustachios he did not have (reducing the slaver, Lewrie thought it) as he boldly gazed down the bodices of the promising young ladies, or leered at the eager young orange-sellers.

Followed by a traipse through Covent Garden's vast and crowded arcade, where anything or anyone could be had at a decent price if one but haggled a bit, where smuggled French champagne had been prominently featured (Lewrie was pretty sure); thence here, to The Cocoa Tree, and a lashing or two more of wine accompanying supper, along with the odd "revivor" brandy, now the port.

Squinting only just a tad to maintain focus, Lewrie studied the many ladies present, strolling and flouncing past the communal table at which he and his father had shared supper with a pack of strangers. A lively pack of roisterers, in the main, but new to both of them.

The Cocoa Tree maintained a certain air of proper decorum, just as the resort at Bath did. Only true ladies welcome in Society, with a requisite purseful of "chink," and the itch to risk it, were allowed.

Quite unlike his dissolute youth, in the pre-Navy days, when he and his usual mob of bucks-of-the-first-head had frequented places like The Spread Eagle in the Strand, The Highflyer at the Old Turf Coffee-House, or The Free And Easy, where after the theatre (or long before!) the fast, the poor, and the criminal could commingle, drink, and chorus with the prettier doxies of whatever class or station, and arrange what sport they wished upstairs, at a nearby bagnio or by-the-hour rooming house.