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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
Things being what they were, we did not meet again for weeks after that first summoning. In fact, we saw little of each other.
I was busy dancing court on the old,rich eccentric woman (A dowager Duchess, as I recall) who had decided that patronizing a small theater was exactly the diversion she needed in her dotage, and that I was the handsomest thing she'd seen in years.
Henry, who I saw once or twice suddenly remembered that he'd come to Oxford to get a degree, and applied himself to his studies.
And of Cedric I saw nothing at all.
That should have been telling in retrospect, because he liked to frequent my theater in hopes of picking up chorus girls, because my introduction would get him to ones who otherwise thought themselves too refined to tumble for a bit of jewelry and a nice meal.





 
 
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