She’d half expected to discover the three men—Newbury, Bainbridge, and Angelchrist—already ensconced in the drawing room, deep in conversation. Instead, she found the two old friends hunkered down over a brandy, and couldn’t help but smile as she was instantly reminded of old times.She stood in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the jamb. The two men looked dour and serious, yet it was the first time she had seen either of them so comfortable in each other’s presence for quite a while. Gone was Bainbridge’s blatant frustration over Newbury’s opium use, replaced by a shared concern that had rendered all other issues between them insubstantial. The way they sat together, brooding and silent, was reminiscent of the way they had acted when she’d first taken her post as Newbury’s assistant, just a year and a half earlier. So much had changed in the intervening months.Newbury looked healthier than he had for some months, with colour in his cheeks and a gleam in his eyes, though his expression was dark and worrisome.
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