A Dangerous Fortune by Ken Follett

had come alone, intending to dance with total strangers. And they were all dressed up to the nines, in evening gowns with bustles, many of them cut very low at the neckline, and the most amazing hats. But he noticed that on the dance floor they all modestly wore their cloaks. And Micky and Edward had assured him that they were not prostitutes but ordinary girls, shop assistants and parlormaids and dressmakers.
    “How do you meet them?” Hugh asked. “Surely you don’t just accost them like streetwalkers?”
    Edward answered him by pointing to a tall, distinguished-looking man in white tie and tails, who wore some kind of badge and appeared to be supervising the dancing. “That’s the master of ceremonies. He’ll effect an introduction, if you tip him.”
    The atmosphere was a curious but exciting mixture of respectability and license, Hugh found.
    The polka ended and some of the dancers returned to their tables. Edward pointed and cried: “Well, I’m damned, there’s Fatty Greenbourne!”
    Hugh followed his finger and saw their old schoolmate, bigger than ever, bulging out of his white waistcoat. On his arm was a stunningly beautiful girl. Fatty and the girl sat down at a table, and Micky said quietly: “Why don’t we join them for a while?”
    Hugh was keen for a closer look at the girl, and he assented readily. The three young men threaded their way through the tables. “Good evening, Fatty!” Edward said cheerily.
    “Hullo, you lot,” he replied. “People call me Solly nowadays,” he added amiably.
    Hugh had seen Solly now and again in the City, London’s financial district. For some years Solly had been working at the head office of his family bank, just around the corner from Pilasters. Unlike Hugh, Edward had only been working in the City for a few weeks, which was why he had not previously run into Solly.
    “We thought we’d join you,” Edward said casually, and looked an inquiry at the girl.
    Solly turned to his companion. “Miss Robinson, may I present some old school friends: Edward Pilaster, Hugh Pilaster, and Micky Miranda.”
    Miss Robinson’s reaction was startling. She went pale beneath her rouge and said: “Pilaster? Not the same family as Tobias Pilaster?”
    “My father was Tobias Pilaster,” said Hugh. “How do you know the name?”
    She recovered her composure quickly. “My father used to work for Tobias Pilaster and Co. As I child, I used to wonder who Co was.” They laughed, and the moment of tension passed. She added: “Would you lads like to sit down?”
    There was a bottle of champagne on the table. Solly poured some for Miss Robinson and called for more glasses. “Well, this is a real reunion of old Windfield chums,” he said. “Guess who else is here: Tonio Silva.”
    “Where?” said Micky quickly. He seemed displeased to hear that Tonio was around, and Hugh wondered why. At school Tonio had always been frightened of Micky, he remembered.
    “He’s on the dance floor,” Solly said. “He’s with Miss Robinson’s friend, Miss April Tilsley.”
    Miss Robinson said: “You could call me Maisie. I’m not a formal girl.” And she threw a lascivious wink at Solly.
    A waiter brought a plate of lobster and set it in front of Solly. He tucked a napkin into his shirt collar and started to eat.
    “I thought you Jewboys weren’t supposed to eat shellfish,” Micky said with lazy insolence.
    Solly was as impervious as ever to such remarks. “I’m only kosher at home,” he said.
    Maisie Robinson gave Micky a hostile glare. “WeJewgirls eat what we like,” she said, and took a morsel from Solly’s plate.
    Hugh was surprised that she was Jewish: he always thought of Jews as having dark coloring. He studied her. She was quite short, but added about a foot to her height by piling her tawny hair into a high chignon and topping it with a huge hat decorated with artificial leaves and fruit. Underneath the hat was a small, impudent face with a wicked twinkle in the green