He could read her thoughts, so as she entered, he quipped, Slip into something comfy and join me for some soup. Its chicken soup with fresh bamboo shoots. Took a good four hours to cook.

Jessie slipped on her slippers, brushing off his antics.

Ina soft voice, she inquired, Wheres Jeslyn? Wearing a forlorn expression, Albert lamented, You sure you dont want a taste? Your mother has been at it all afternoon. Shes made enough for an army, I reckon. She even threw in your share.

Jessie was puzzled.

What was he on about? Her mom sending chicken soup over? Jessie found it hard to believe her mom would cook chicken soup for Albert.

Albert could sense Jessies disbelief, so he offered her a taste.

Jessie spotted the bamboo shoots, she recognized them as the specialty only found at her

with two bags

did the math. Half the shoots had probably ended up in

concern for me than you do. Jessie, when are you going to whip up

scoffed, Just you

air, she queried, Is Jeslyn upstairs? Ill head up to find her. Oh, and Mr. Waston, whats

a sip of soup, nonchalantly remarking, Hungarian sounds great. You learned it in the past few

him any mind would only

heel, gliding upstairs, ignoring his

lip, he called for Elsie, Youre off for a month. Send all the staff

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