DOMINO. Mask. Must be. Too late to dress you like Marc Antony.” Oliver sat in a wing back chair holding his son with his one good arm. It seemed he couldn’t get enough of the boy who was pulling buttons off his father’s coat. “Here now, son. Might swallow those and then where will we be?” He signaled to a hovering woman who stood anxiously at the door. She came forward and took her young charge by the hand. “You mind Nanny and we will try out that new sail boat later.” Oliver waved a fond farewell as the boy reluctantly left the room. “You are enjoying spoiling that lad,” Ethan noted. Oliver grinned guiltily. “Catching up. Already talking and telling me what is what. Smart lad. Smarter than I ever was!” Oliver beamed his approval. “What is this about a costume? You said it was a ball. Nothing about costume. Where the deuce am I to find that sort of thing at this late date?”
