“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life, Lucy, and that’s saying something. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. Selling out of the Army to take up his inheritance had spelled boredom to Gerald Alderley.
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