The basket has sandwiches and a thermos of tea, and some ripe red strawberries he'd been unable to turn down when he saw them in the grocery. Fresh fruit, whether in season or not, is still a luxury to him, even several years into his wealth and living in the small estate house with Grace. He's had strawberries even less commonly than he's had oranges, except for the tiny wild ones.
"Lady's choice on the sandwiches," he says, grinning a little, pulling his cigarette case out of his coat to select one. "We've got ham and watercress. I'm practically a fucking chef, excuse my French."
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The basket has sandwiches and a thermos of tea, and some ripe red strawberries he'd been unable to turn down when he saw them in the grocery. Fresh fruit, whether in season or not, is still a luxury to him, even several years into his wealth and living in the small estate house with Grace. He's had strawberries even less commonly than he's had oranges, except for the tiny wild ones.
"Lady's choice on the sandwiches," he says, grinning a little, pulling his cigarette case out of his coat to select one. "We've got ham and watercress. I'm practically a fucking chef, excuse my French."