Prance said, smiling in anticipation of the thrill he was giving his friend. “You needn’t bother, thankee all the same,” Coffen said, with no sign of delight. “I’ll work faster alone.” “Two heads are better than one, and two pairs of feet.” “There’s no such thing as one head and two pairs of feet, Reg, unless you’re talking about horses or dogs. You and Villier will take the morning to pack. You’d just be a milestone round my neck. I could be halfway there before you decided which jacket to wear. Just get me the picture of Russell and I’ll get on with it.” “Don’t be absurd,” Prance said, stung at the slur. He liked his well-planned ensembles to be taken for spur of the moment inspiration. “I’ll be ready before my carriage gets here. You’d best cancel yours and tell Corrie you won’t be needing her groom.” Coffen muttered some aspersions and said, “Get a wiggle on, then.” He went next door to tell Corinne the change of plan. “Prance going with you?
