Rupert bowed slightly mocking: - At your service, Miss Morgan - and looked at the bed, quietly closed the door. - My father is sleeping? - Is ill. - Octavia still kneeling in front of a fireplace. She could not believe in his parish. - Do not wake up a few hours. The water in the kettle boil. Octavius ??instinctively reached out to lift the kettle off the hook. - Do you want toast with tea? - Do the best she could come up with, because now it bothered only thing got out of the woolen thread and coat worn fur trim sleeves. Five years ago, this home outfit was quite elegant. He was warm and practical, but the years of constant wear lost its former sophisticated look.