She turned to Nick, who sat beside her as they bounced along the road back to Golden Square in a hackney coach. Her blue eyes shone with excitement. “Oh, it’s simply wonderful,” she said. “It feels more like a professional publication, now that it has its own of?ces. Don’t you think so?” They had spent the entire day moving boxes full of books and papers from the house to the new magazine of?ces. Bartholomew had had the rooms thoroughly cleaned, and a crew of laborers was on hand to move furniture about or install more shelving. His father had done everything possible to make the move easy and painless, and Nick was grateful. He had to admit that at first he’d been skeptical. Coming so soon after the unpleasant confrontation with Pru over moving out of the house, his father’s offer had seemed almost too coincidental. Nick’s first thought was that the whole thing had been Pru’s idea: that they—or she—buy a house of their own, and also arrange to have the magazine business moved elsewhere.
