Luckily, right then we arrived at the City Tavern. I looked up at the brick building and wondered which attic window had been Will’s. Mom and Dad herded me inside into a long hallway. I could see waitresses in mobcaps and long dresses and waiters in clothes like Geordie’s. One costumed waiter came out into the hallway. He carried a wooden keg on his shoulder, a cane in his hand.
Stunned, I shouted out, “Will!”
The young man turned, peered at us, and put down the keg. “Sir, Madam. May I serve you in some way?”
I thought fast. “Will—will—you tell us where to sit?”
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