Wasn’t it grand, truly, to have such an assortment of acquaintances, friends from all walks of life? Her days before, from sheltered Shropshire as a girl to her married life in Irvingly, had been so cloistered and refined that there was almost nothing left of life in them. Judah’s life had been even finer than hers once, Ester knew, but she could also tell that he had found constraints in it all the same.

And whatever the limitations of their lives now, at least one could be entirely sure they weren’t lonely. She frowned at the mention of his poor raw fingers, but smiled wide at his musings. “Now, there’s no sense in would have been,” she chastised, rapping him teasingly on the wrist with a cracker, “our lives aren’t quite over with yet! There’s still plenty of time for things to change. One never knows what’s just around the corner. We could be on the way up by tomorrow.” (Merlin, she dearly hoped he didn’t think her old and wilted and wasted. She thought she might die at the very thought.) She sighed at his thought, though; how wonderful it would be to have a whole theatre, and creative freedom to boot! Perhaps she should write a play of her own.

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