John observed as Felix peered into his office from the doorway to the atrium. “Come in. Sit down. Never mind the blood!” Felix noticed that the long cut running across the knuckles of his right hand still bled. “You’re going to have quite a scar there,” John said. “Don’t worry about the furniture. I can get more.” “You could use more than two chairs and a desk in here,” Felix grunted. “I looked for you first in that private chapel of yours.” “I’ve had enough religion for the day. I decided to sit here instead.” “We’re not likely to be interrupted now that your servants have gone.” “It suits me. I can find a bit of bread and cheese to eat without assistance.” Felix passed a weary hand over his face and sank onto the uncushioned wooden seat. “Things are very bad out there. Very bad.
