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" ‘Desperate’?" he guessed "You find it overused?"

"No," she sighed, sitting down in the chair by his bed "Too frequently apt It’s a terrible feeling"

He nodded, although in truth, he didn’t think he understood desperation Loneliness, certainly, but not desperation

She sat quietly at his side, her hands folded in her lap There was a long silence, not quite aard, but not comfortable, either, and then she said rather suddenly, "The broth is beef"

He looked down at the small porcelain tureen on his tray, still covered by a lid

"The cook called it boeuf conso a little faster than she usually did, "but it’s broth, plain and simple Mrs Wetherby insists that its curative powers are beyond co other than broth," he said dolefully, looking down at his sparse tray

"Dry toast," Honoria said sy forward another inch What he wouldn’t give for a slice of Flindle’s chocolate cake Or a creamed apple tart Or a shortbread biscuit, or a Chelsea bun, or bloody well anything that contained a great deal of sugar

"It smells quite nice," Honoria said "The broth"

It did shed and took a spoonful, blowing on it before taking a taste "It’s good," he said

"Really?" She looked doubtful

He nodded and ate some more Or rather, drank some more Did one eat soup or drink it? And et some cheese to melt on top of it? "What did you have for supper?" he asked her

She shook her head "You don’t want to know"

He ate-drank another spoonful "Probably not" Then he couldn’t help hi

"There was," he said accusingly He looked down at the last dregs of his soup He supposed he could use the dry toast to soak it up He hadn’t left enough liquid, though, and after two bites, his toast really was dry

Sawdust dry Wandering-the-desert dry He paused for athe desert thirsty a few days earlier? He took a bite of his entirely unpalatable toast He’d never seen a desert in his life, and likely never would, but as far as geographical habitats went, it did see a ?" Honoria asked curiously

"Aarded his toast "Did you truly have hah he knew he didn’t want to know the answer: "Was there pudding?"

He looked at her She wore a very guilty expression

"Chocolate?" he whispered

She shook her head

"Berry? Ca – Oh, Lord, did Cook make treacle tart?"