Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. “Oh my God! You sounded like my Grandma just now! How did you do that?” He asked, shocked. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin. Besides the table close by loaded with books, there was a central table with upright chairs around, covered in a multitude of papers, inks and quills, and assorted unrelated items such as playing cards.
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