George Stanford was in so much pain that he couldn’t help but want to vent. He glanced askance at Sophie Sullivan. "So, are you going to stew it or not?"
"Stew it!"
Sophie Sullivan held Harry in the air, gripping its tail with one hand. "With all this fat, it should be tender and delicious when stewed, quite nourishing."
"OW!" Harry seed to sense the danger and wailed ekly.
When Sophie Sullivan looked at it, it imdiately lowered its head and cowered into a ball.
"Heh heh, Fiona, you’re the kind one." George Stanford started to laugh, but the laughter quickly turned into a pained gasp, and he began to wail.
Seeing him in so much pain, Sophie Sullivan said to the nurse nearby, "Can you give him so painkillers?"
"Certainly," the nurse responded promptly.
Sophie Sullivan’s gaze fell on George Stanford’s face. She was holding Harry’s fluffy tail, swinging it uncomfortably. "Old Mr. Stanford, um... I’m sorry."
"So you admit you’ve wronged ?" The mont she said it, George Stanford flared up.
He huffed, nearly bolting upright in anger. "Those bastards! Not a single one of them is any good!"
"Yes, they’re all scum!" Sophie Sullivan agreed.
"Exactly! Who denies people food and water?" George Stanford complained plaintively. "I nearly died of thirst..."
Sophie Sullivan looked apologetic. "I’m sorry. It’s all our fault we didn’t rescue you sooner. You’ve suffered so much."
"That’s right," George Stanford said, as if it were a matter of course. "So, when are you going to arrange for Shawna and to go on a date as compensation?"
Sophie Sullivan was speechless. "..."
Shawna?
He’s still thinking about *his* Shawna?
Last ti, it was only because Thomas Shannon intervened that William Guillen reluctantly agreed to let his mother go on a date with him. And William had sat in front of the surveillance monitor with a dark expression the entire ti. This ti, Old Mr. Stanford wants to try again?
Sophie Sullivan took a deep breath, stood up, and, holding Harry, said, "I think I’ll go stew Harry for you now."
"Hey... Fiona, don’t go..."
George Stanford yelled a couple of tis, then wailed in pain again. "Fiona, you heartless girl... Co back..."
Sophie Sullivan’s head poked in through the doorway. "Any other instructions?"
George Stanford sighed faintly, gazing at the ceiling. "Stay and talk with for a bit."
Sophie Sullivan dutifully returned to the bedside and sat down in the chair. Looking at Old Mr. Stanford’s weary, weathered face, she asked, "You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?"
"The suffering I’ve endured in these past few days is more than all the suffering I’ve experienced in my entire life combined."
"I’m sorry..." Sophie Sullivan lowered her head and apologized sincerely.
"Hey, hey, can we even have a pleasant conversation anymore?" George Stanford said lancholically. "You keep apologizing. If I don’t try to comfort you, it makes seem rude... But then again, I don’t really *want* to comfort you. So what do you expect to do?"
He answered his own question, "What can I do? I’m pretty desperate myself here..."
Sophie Sullivan couldn’t help but laugh out loud. "Old Mr. Stanford, you seem to be having a perfectly fine conversation all by yourself, playing both parts."
"HMPH!" George Stanford harrumphed again. "Heartless girl."
Sophie Sullivan stood up. "I’ll go get your dinner. You wait here."
She put Harry down, then poked its fluffy head with her index finger. "Behave yourself and don’t cause any trouble for ."
With that, she turned and left the room.
She learned that the nurse had already prepared dinner for George Stanford—mostly light food. Then she rembered there was soup simring inside the castle. Old Mr. Stanford has a broken rib; he needs proper nourishnt to recover.
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