@mrlovetts | cont from [x]
Beadle stretched a gloved hand tentatively out in front of him as if to stroke the pelt and see for himself, but he thought better of it and let his arm hang limply at his side. Bamford certainly did not intend to pull back a glove full of broken fingers.
“ Oh, is it ? “ The beadle attempted to hide his relief behind a smile that scrunched up his face around his beady little black eyes and pulled his lips away from his uneven teeth. As far as he remembered, Mr. Lovett’s establishment had not been quite so well off once-upon-a-time (some months ago, in fact). If the beadle himself, a gentleman of the highest, most refined taste, could not scrape together enough to buy a fox of his own (a dream he had entertained secretly for far longer than he cared to admit)... Surely, Lovett could not afford such a fine animal !
Beadle Bamford was not a fan of the sour feeling that sat like a rock in his stomach.
Was this jealousy ?
