The great wooden door at Hampton Court is firmly shut but a small knot of curious, would-be tittle-tattlers loiter, casting sideways glances to see what sort of person (other than themselves of course) would sign up for an evening of 17th and 18th century smut. ‘Salacious Gossip’, the leaflet promises. ‘Adult content. Strictly over-18s only.’
Somewhere inside, a clock chimes the half-hour. The gates part. Across the courtyard a duchess in a froth of satin and worldliness sips a glass of champagne. The group is invited to do the same, whilst leafing through Mr Harris’s notorious List of Covent Garden Ladies. Somewhat truncated but enough to get the gist:
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