Sentence The Sixhundredandfortyfifth

Sarah Siddons, or Sally to her closest friends, felt rather conflicted; after recovering from the initial shock of discovering the young Scots girl in her wardrobe, not being one to spend very much time pondering the 'Hows' and the 'Whys' of life, she focussed on the simple fact that Griselda seemed to know fuck-all about the world, was. at sixteen, still a virgin, and although, at first glance, rather plain and simple-minded, scrubbed up well, had good posture and poise, was actually fairly well-educated
and cultivated, after a fashion, despite a complete ignorance about everything that had happened in the world since 1267AD – but then Sarah herself had not received much education that she was interested in, could read and write to a rather basic level (actually, she was forced to admit that the girl was a far better reader and writer than herself, which was a surprise to her, thinking that life so long ago would have consisted of caves and mud huts and not many clothes) and knew and cared little about life in the present day beyond her own part of London, fashion and dress, and her
livelihood; she was, as she had told Griselda, a gay woman, had lost her virginity at 14 to a 'proper gentleman' when she had still lived at home with her parents and five brothers and sisters and been employed in a dress-making factory for 6d a week - "slave labour!" she spat out, "never get a job in any kind o' factry, darlin', conditions is 'orrible, pay's rubbish, an' yer never see daylight from one year to the next – oh, they've got winders, all right, but they're so fogged up that yer can't see out and the sun can't get in!" she shuddered at the memory, as she adjured Griselda, "no, my gel, enjoy the gay life, maybe we'll find yer a friend with the means to keep yer, like my gentleman keeps me - 'e's a Scotchman, tho' ye'd never tell from 'is speech, Sir Peveril's 'is name, ever so posh, but you know wot they sez, underneaf their clobber, a Man's a Man fer a' That, but now 'is valet, Dirk, is more ye'r rough an' ready type, 'e likely finds 'is tastes catered for on the streets, yer know, match girls an' flower sellers, mefinks 'e likes 'em younger than you, aged in single figgers, if yer gets me meanin' so don't worry, yer too old fer 'im; we must find yer a man o' means – why, ye may even marry a man of means – it happens, not to all, but it's always a gay gel's dream – but ye'll 'ave ter change yer name: Griselda's old-fashioned, ye're better with somefin' simple, let me fink," and then she exclaimed:
"Grace, or Gracie, that would suit yer, darlin', it sounds modest, an' men like a modest gel, well, let's say, until they gets their paws up yer petticoats!" and she laughed, and Griselda had to admit that Sarah's laugh had a musical quality about it, although she wasn't too sure about everything that Sarah said; she seemed to know a lot about men and their desires – much more than Griselda herself, and certainly much more than she wanted to know, although there was no gainsaying that, adrift here, in London – well, what little she could see of it from Sarah's windows, which was frightening enough, with carriages and what Sarah called Omnibuses (large vehicles drawn by several horses, with lots of
passengers and even lanterns inside at night, and Griselda thought a better name would be Gargantua) and all the hordes of people who walked, or hurried along what were called pavements, in every direction backwards and forwards, crossing and re-crossing the road, dodging between the vehicles, especially the huge and rather frightening Dray Horses, which Sarah pointed out, massive beasts hauling great carts with mountains of barrels of ale, from breweries to pubs (or Public Houses) which sounded like some of the inns around Longformacus; Griselda had never seen so many people in one place at one time – she dared not venture out alone and was sure that she would need Sarah's assistance for such an expedition, but with no money, and just the scant clothes on her back, she would certainly have to find a way of earning for herself! and that was something which had never been part of the expectations of Lady Griselda of Longformacus, but the notion of being the focus of men's attentions which, for Sarah, seemed to be the principal object of women like herself, made her feel sick; why oh why, never mind the how, had she pushed her way through the rent in Tavish's cloak only to find herself in this waking nightmare; she steeled herself; until she was able to find her way back – she had already tried pushing through the rear of Sarah's wardrobe when she wasn't looking, but to no avail; "oh well," she said to herself, "needs must and until I do find a way back, I will have to eat and it isn't fair to expect Sarah to provide for me, whoever's fault it is that I am here, I don't want Sarah to think me a whiffler," she thought, "needs must, and I have needs, so I must‽" said the girl, formerly known as Griselda and henceforward to be referred to as Gracie, not with a whimper, but an interrobang.