"Reading in 1845 was a close-knit town and John Snare was right at its heart. His business was at the very point where the main roads converged—King Street, Gun Street, Yield Hall Lane and Cheapside, redolent of Shakespeare’s London—in a little nexus of cobbles and diamond-pane shop fronts.”
“The camp sulks at the edge of town, plainly visible from the highway, a cluster of squat barracks fenced off with chain-link. The grounds are paved with macadam. Armed security guards man the gate.”