Seven Will Out: A Renaissance Revel - Plot & Excerpts
A long, Duck Dynasty beard figured prominently. “It must surely be obvious to you, Dolly,” Amy said, putting an end to my reverie. “I consulted Cecil.” “William Cecil, at that early point in the Elizabethan game,” I said, stating the obvious, perhaps, but wanting to keep it as accurate as possible. His son, Robert Cecil, would not have been of an advice-giving age until much later on. “Correct, Dolly.” “Wouldn’t a physician have been more appropriate, Amy?” “Not for the idea that I was brewing, Dolly—the idea that Cecil helped me bring to fruition.” “So you formulated an idea on you own before even consulting Cecil! That was enterprising of you. How did you manage such advanced planning, with things such as life and death on your mind?” “The country life I loved so much came to my service, Dolly.” “You were imbued with inspiration as you sat soaking in the sweet air of the English countryside?” “No. I happened to be out near the paddock when I saw one of our horses, sickly and old, being led off to the knacker’s yard.”
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